


Kneading Love

by curlsgetdemgurls



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Bread puns, F/M, falling in dough, lets get this bread, lots of them - Freeform, prepare yourselves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-10-27 22:34:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20768036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curlsgetdemgurls/pseuds/curlsgetdemgurls
Summary: Months after WWII, Jamie Fraser meets new resident, Claire Beauchamp. He owns a bakery, she owns a garden shop. They both share their passions with each other and find something worth kneading along the way.





	1. Rose Street

** _Inverness, Scotland_ **   
** _March 1st, 1946_ **

Jamie Fraser owned a small bakery on Cromwell Road. It was his father’s before him and his grandfather’s before him and now it was Jamie’s turn. Each morning before the sun would rise, Jamie delivered his freshly baked goods around the village on his bicycle. What he loved the most was seeing the village quiet before the hustle and bustle of the day began. 

By sheer luck, Jamie had managed to keep the bakery open during the war. Due to a previous injury, Jamie had been released from ever serving. He often felt ashamed that he couldn’t fight for his country, but he had seen what the men looked like when they came home from the front and he was secretly glad to have never seen the horrors they did. 

Sadly over the past years, Jamie had to cut back on his selection of baked goods due to rationing. This meant hardly any sweets, so he perfected his most basic loaves and ended up giving more bread away than actually selling anything. Everyone fell on hard times, which meant that everyone in the village had done what they could to help others. 

It was a close knit community, which meant that when something new — or rather, in this case, _someone new — _came to the village, everyone found out. 

Jamie had just finished packaging his deliveries for the day as he walked outside his shop. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and the air was crisp. He took a deep breath, smiling to himself as he set out on his bike. 

As he rounded Duff Street, he slowed down to drop off Mrs. Baird’s delivery. Next, it was on to Glenburn Drive where Dr. Bennett ordered a fresh loaf of sourdough each day. Jamie road quietly through the village, dropping off parcel after parcel before heading down Rose Street to deliver a parcel for the local farmer. 

Something in a small shop that he thought had been abandoned caught his eye, however. Jamie thought he saw a woman standing in the window, her hair flying all around her. He blinked several times to check again. But he didn’t have a chance to look again. As he rode past, his wheel hit a large rock and Jamie flew off the bike, leaving his packages on the ground. 

“Christ!” Jamie muttered to himself, rolling over onto his back. 

Just as he managed to sit up to assess the damage, he heard a sound come from behind him. Light footsteps approached him and he turned to look up at the face of a beautiful woman. 

“Are you alright, sir?” The woman asked in an English accent as she bent down to his level. 

Jamie could only nod, and then the woman placed her hand on his head, brushing off dirt from his cheek. 

“You took quite a spill,” the woman smiled. Jamie was drowning in the amber color of her eyes, the sweet smile on her lips and the soothing sound of her voice. 

“I think I’ll make it, but I’m no’ so sure about my bike,” Jamie said. They both looked over to see that his bike had a flat tire and was laying haphazardly on its side. “I dinna ken how I’ll be able to finish my deliveries now.” 

“What is it that you deliver?” The woman asked and stood up, holding out her hand for him to take. 

“Bread,” Jamie answered and began to dust off his trousers. “Sweets and things.” 

“Delicious,” the woman licked her lips. She reached up and straightened his cap for him and Jamie’s heart sped up at her touch. 

“I can bring ye some if ye like, or ye can come visit my shop down on the main square,” Jamie smiled. 

“I’d like to try some!” She smiled. “I just moved here, so I’m learning the lay of the land.” 

Jamie looked behind her to the shop she had come out of. So he hadn’t imagined it after all. 

“Och, where are my manners? I’m Jamie Fraser,” he held out his hand. 

“Claire Beauchamp,” she shook his hand warmly. “That’s my garden house now,” she pointed behind her. “At least it will be once I get everything sorted.” 

“A garden house eh? I havena seen anyone in this shop since well before the war. I reckon ye’ll bring life back to this street,” he said. “Ah! And tis called Rose Street, how apt!” 

“Indeed,” Claire laughed. “When I came here looking for a vacant building, I never imagined I would find one on a street with the perfect name for a garden house.” 

“Twas meant to be, Sassenach,” Jamie said. 

“Sassenach?” Claire questioned. 

“English person,” Jamie said quietly to her, leaning in as if there were people all around them. 

“Ah, I see,” Claire smirked. “I suppose I am the odd one out up here.” 

“Ye are indeed,” Jamie smiled. “But yer no’ so odd.” 

The sun was rising now and fast. It peeked over the houses and was now shining on both their faces. Since Jamie’s fall, he had completely forgotten the state of his bike. 

“Ah Dhia! I still have deliveries to get to, but my bike has got a flat,” he said and went over to pick up his remaining packages. 

“Oh, that’s terrible!” Claire said as she bent down and picked up a small square parcel. “I have my bike around back, you must take it. You can bring it back tomorrow or whenever you like.” 

Jamie stood there, his arms full of packages of bread, feeling eternally grateful for this near stranger. “Really? It wouldn’t be a bother to ye? I wouldn’t want to take yer bike if ye needed it.” 

“I won’t need it! I’ll be in my shop all day taking inventory,” Claire smiled. “You have to get those people their bread!” 

“Mrs. Jamison is always cross wi’ me when I’m late,” Jamie chuckled. “Thank ye, Claire. Truly, whatever I can do to repay ye for yer kindness just let me know.” 

He followed her around the back of the shop to where her bike was propped against the wall. It had a small basket and Jamie placed his remaining bread into it. 

“You can let me try your most popular baked good and we’ll call it even,” Claire smiled and held out her hand. He took it, once again cherishing the warmth of her skin against his. 

“Ye’ve got yerself a deal, Claire Beauchamp.” Jamie hopped up on the bike and put his feet on the pedals. He waved goodbye to the curly haired woman and tried not to fall again in her presence. The last thing he needed was to get distracted and cause her bike to have a flat. 

Claire Beauchamp and her garden house would be the talk of the town come lunch time. 

++++++

There was nothing Claire loved more than waking up early before the sun rose. Before the war, she had preferred to spend her mornings sleeping, with her head buried under the pillow. But she had spent the past several years as a field nurse and had acclimated to the early mornings. 

The decision to leave London and move to a small village in Scotland hadn’t been an easy one. She knew no one in Scotland, and she had just enough money to open a small shop and pay rent until she earned more income. 

Claire had tried to move on after the war had ended, but everywhere she looked, she only saw loss and pain. She had been stationed primarily in France, but even after returning to London, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was about to happen. 

America had been an option — the big vast, wild continent that Claire had dreamed of one day visiting. But as a young girl, she had roamed the Highlands with her late parents and recalled the beauty and magic of the place. 

So that’s how Claire found herself packing up her few belongings and handing in her notice to the hospital in London. What she needed was a fresh start, and that didn’t include being around soldiers and scalpels. 

Her first love was the earth. More specifically, flowers and herbs and anything green she could get her hands on. Claire sat on the train to Inverness with a suitcase full of clothes, seeds and a book about gardening. With no idea what was in store for her, she vowed to put all her effort into making Inverness her new home. 

She had arrived late into Inverness where she had picked up her keys to the shop that also had a small apartment above it and fell quickly to sleep. It was only hours later that she woke early and crept downstairs to observe the state of her shop. It hadn’t been occupied in some time — the thick layer of dust that coated everything was proof of that. 

There was a lot that needed to be done before it was ready to open, and she knew it would take hard work. There was no time like the present, so Claire pushed back her sleeves and began to move furniture around and map out what she wanted to do with the space. 

The potting area would be near the back, close to the back door where a small greenhouse would be. Then the front would be where her displays of bouquets would draw people in. A fresh coat of paint would have to be applied to both the interior and exterior of the building, but all in all, it wasn’t looking too bad. 

As Claire moved around the shelves near the front of the shop, she heard a loud crash and looked up to see a large man laying on the dirt road. She rushed out to see if he was okay, and was struck by how handsome he looked — his mop of red curls bouncing as he sat up and the blue of his eyes as he took her proffered hand. 

The last thing she had been expecting that morning was to meet Jamie, and to lend him her bike. As he road away, she wondered how odd it would be for her to go into his shop later that day. She told herself it was just for the bread, but in her heart she knew it was much more than that. 

Unable to take his bike with him as he made the rest of his deliveries, Claire drug his bike back behind her shop. Thankfully it wasn’t damaged save the flat tire and Claire had just the tools to fix it. Earlier while she was cleaning, she had come across a box of tools and in it was a bike pump, electrical tape and anything else she might ever need. Jamie would want to get a new tire, but she would at least try and mend it best she could. 

An hour later, the bike was fixed. Claire stood back admiring her handy work and then heard her stomach growl. There was only one way to test if the bike was rideable or not and so Claire grabbed her satchel and took off down the road and into the village. 

Her eyes took in her surroundings, trying to memorize where everything was and what she might need later on. There was a bookstore, a bed and breakfast and a small grocers. Claire thought she had missed it, but upon second glance, she saw it. _Fraser Bakery._

With her heart beating in her ears, Claire propped the bike against the wall and walked in. It smelled divine and there was a cloud of what must have been flour, all around the room. The smell alone was enough to remind Claire she hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. 

There was no sight of the tall scot and she wondered if he had come back yet from his deliveries. A short, dark haired woman was behind the counter as she approached and she smiled as Claire met her eye. 

“Hello there, miss,” the woman said with a thick Scottish accent. “What can I get ye?”

“Um,” Claire looked at the case before her, seeing the plethora of goods. “I’ll take whatever you recommend.” 

“Then I’d recommend our fresh croissants and maybe a loaf to take home,” the woman said. “My brother baked it all fresh only hours ago.” 

“Your brother?” Claire’s eyebrows shot up. So that meant this woman before her was obviously Jamie’s sister. It was a relief to Claire to find the man she had met this morning wasn’t married — or at least she hoped he wasn’t. 

“Aye, Jamie.” The woman said. “I’m Jenny. Ye’ll be new around here then if ye didna ken that.” 

“Yes,” Claire smiled. “I just moved here from London. I own what will be a small garden shop down on Rose Street.” 

“Och, tis a bonny street for a garden shop,” Jenny grinned. “Well, ye can take this on the house then lass. It’ll be a welcoming present.” 

Claire took the buttery croissant and fresh loaf into her arms. “Thank you so much, Jenny.” She turned to leave the shop, but hesitated in the doorway. Looking back, she saw that Jenny was still watching her. “Your brother, Jamie… he’s not here is he?”

“No,” Jenny shook her head. “He got a flat tire on his bike this morning and so he borrowed someone’s and is now picking up a new tire. Should be back this afternoon. Did ye need him for somethin’?” 

His sister eyed her suspiciously, no doubt wondering how she knew Jamie or why she would be asking for him if she was new in town. For some reason, Claire didn’t want to tell her that the bike Jamie had borrowed had been hers or that Jamie’s bike was now outside at this very moment. 

“Oh no,” Claire smiled. “I just wanted to thank him for the bread as well. I’m sure I’ll be back to try something else. Thank you, Jenny!” 

“Yer welcome…” 

“Claire! Claire Beauchamp,” Claire grinned and then waved goodbye and set off for her shop. 

++++++

Jamie had been so preoccupied with getting a new tire for his bike and all the new orders for the next day that he hadn’t a spare moment to think about Claire Beauchamp. That was, until later that evening as he began the walk home with his older sister Jenny. 

“I met a young lass today who was askin’ for ye,” Jenny said. 

“Aye? And what did she want?”

“I dinna ken,” Jenny shrugged. “She only asked if ye were in the shop and I told her ye werena.” 

“Did ye catch a name perhaps?”

“Claire,” Jenny said and Jamie stopped walking. “What? Do ye ken her?” 

“I met her this morning,” Jamie admitted and began walking again. “This is her bike actually,” he said as he pushed the bike along with them. “I crashed in front of her shop and she was kind enough to lend it to me.” 

“Ah, I see,” Jenny grinned. “Well, I gave her a few things on the house. She said she only wanted to thank ye, but now I ken why she wanted to see ye again.” 

“And why’s that?” Jamie chuckled, looking down at his sister. 

“I’ll let ye figure that one out on yer own bráthair,” Jenny laughed. 

Claire was all Jamie thought about that night and still into the morning as he baked the bread for the day. He couldn’t stop smiling to himself as he made deliveries that morning. He hoped that Claire would be awake again and he would have a chance to talk to her, but there wasn’t a light on that he could see as he came to her shop. 

What he did see was his bike leaning against the door. As he approached it, he realized that the tire had been mended. 

“Clever, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned. He touched the handlebars and his fingers felt something soft. It was a bright yellow daisy tied with string. Leaning down, he sniffed the flower and sighed. 

As quietly as he could, he switched his packages back over to his own bike and left Claire’s against the shop wall. 

Later that morning when Jamie came back from his deliveries, he was surprised to see Claire’s bike out in front of his bakery. It seemed he wasn’t the only one unable to get the other out of his head. Or perhaps, Claire just really enjoyed fresh baked goods. Whatever the reason, Jamie straightened his cap and walked into the bakery in search of the curly headed garden lady. 


	2. Picnic for two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie asks Claire to go on a picnic...

He spotted her just as soon as he walked through the door. Claire was talking with his sister Jenny about something he couldn’t hear, but their heads were leaned in close. Both of them turned to look at him, smiles forming on their lips. 

“Look who finally showed up,” Jenny smirked. “I would introduce the two of ye, but I take it ye’ve met?”

Jamie gave his sister a look, and then focused his attention on Claire. She looked so bonny, with a few curls pinned back to show off her beautiful smooth skin. He felt himself getting nervous, though he didn’t know why. 

“Aye, we’ve met,” Jamie smiled and closed the distance between himself and Claire. “I saw my bike this morning. Thank ye for mending it.” 

“Oh, you’re welcome!” Claire smiled. “Jenny was telling me you got a new tire for it which is for the best because I’m not sure how long my patchwork job would hold up.” 

Moving around the counter, Jamie looked behind him and motioned for Claire to follow him to the back. Without a word, she took that step that turned her from customer to special guest. Jamie felt his sister’s eyes on the back of his head, but paid her no attention. He didn’t want Jenny’s prying ears listening in any longer. 

He led her into the back where the kitchen was. It was filled with pans and bowls from this mornings baking. Seeing the bread come out from the oven, that perfect golden brown always gave Jamie an odd sense of purpose and fulfillment. While it wasn’t something grand or exceptionally meaningful, coming in to bake gave Jamie a sense of peace he hadn’t been able to find elsewhere. 

“Sorry tis a bit of a mess,” Jamie shrugged, pushing his hair off his forehead. “I usually clean it when I come back in the afternoon.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Claire said. “I like a bit of mess.” 

“I suppose ye would,” Jamie replied and then saw Claire’s odd expression and corrected himself. “Bein’ a gardener I mean! Ye would get yer hands in the dirt and such.” 

“Ah, yes,” she smiled. “I find most of my clothes have got dirt on them or seeds in the pockets.” 

Now that they were back here, Jamie wasn’t quite sure what to do. They knew very little about each other, seeing as how they only met the previous day. 

“Do you have any plans for today, Claire?” Jamie asked. 

She had been looking around the kitchen and when he asked her the question, her eyes landed on his once more — nailing him in the heart with their whisky color. 

“More of the same as I did yesterday,” she sighed. “Cleaning up the shop, trying to figure out what I still need to get. Tedious really.” 

“I ken ye dinna know me,” Jamie said, leaning against a counter with his ankles crossed. “But I suppose I am the only one besides my sister that ye ken in town?” Claire nodded. “Would ye like to come out and have a picnic wi’ me? I could show ye a bit more of the town.” 

Before she could answer, Jenny burst into the kitchen. 

“Jamie, Mr. O’Greggory is here askin’ for ye! He wants to ken why his delivery had one less loaf in it than usual. I tried to tell him about the oven no’ workin’ properly, but he wouldna listen.” 

Jamie cursed Mr. O’Greggory for interrupting, but knew the matter must be settled then and there. He glanced at Claire and sighed. 

“This won’t take but a moment.” 

He walked back out into the front of the store, seeing the small figure of his bereaved customer. Two sets of footsteps followed behind him. 

“Good morning, Mr. O’Greggory,” Jamie said politely. “Before ye chastise me, I hope ye can maybe understand that our oven wasna workin’ as it should these past two days.” 

“Aye, I can, but I don’t see what that’s got to do wi’ my loaves!” The man shouted. 

Jamie could see Claire out of the side of his eye, standing there beside his sister. He hoped the man wouldn’t make a fool out of him in front of her. 

“I bake the loaves in the oven, man,” Jamie shook his head. “Ye’ve paid me for yer order and I dinna intend to steal from ye. The oven is back to normal, so will ye take an extra two loaves tomorrow for all the trouble?”

“And a basket of a selection of our baked goods thrown in for yer troubles,” Jenny chimed in. 

“Aye, that too,” Jamie agreed. 

The small man on the other side of the counter seemed to be weighing his options, and with a curt nod, that was that. 

“I’ll have yer order first thing tomorrow morning,” Jamie said. “I’m sorry about all the trouble.” 

“Not a worry, lad,” Mr. O’Greggory tipped his hat at Jamie and then left without another word. 

With one problem out of the way, Jamie took a deep breath and then looked back at Claire. He was surprised she had waited and hadn’t just left. 

“You handled that very well,” she said. 

“Och, he likes to pretend he’s tough, but the truth is he’s afraid I’ll squash him with my fist,” Jamie laughed. 

“And would you?” Claire asked. 

“Jamie wouldna hurt a fly,” Jenny smirked. “He may look strong and tall enough to bump his head on every door he comes to, but he’s a kind man.” 

“Thank ye, Janet for interruptin’ me yet again,” Jamie rolled his eyes and saw Claire smiling. “The answer, Claire is no. But that doesna mean that I don’t want to clap him on the ears every time he comes in here wi’ a complaint!” 

Another customer walked in, and Jenny went to help them. Jamie stepped aside and Claire came to stand next to him. He wanted to reach out and take her hand, but he worried it would be too soon. There was something about her, some magnetism that drew him to her. 

“Before we were interrupted,” Jamie said. “I asked if ye wanted to go on a picnic wi’ me. Would ye like to do that, Sassenach?”

“Sassenach,” Claire said the unfamiliar word, no doubt recalling the first time he had said it to her. “Well, seeing as I would much rather be out on a picnic than pushing shelves around, yes. I’d love to.” 

“Och, I’m glad!” Jamie grinned. “I’ll need a bit of time to prepare some food for us, so why don’t I come by yer wee shop in an hour and we can leave from there?”

“Me and my stomach will be happily waiting,” Claire laughed. “Oh! Could you maybe pack a few of those delicious croissants? I had one yesterday, and I’ve been dreaming about it ever since.” 

“Aye, of course, Sassenach,” Jamie smiled. 

++++++

Claire was grateful for the distraction in the form of Jamie Fraser. If she was honest with herself, she would have been distracted by him no matter if he had asked her on a picnic or not. Ever since their first meeting yesterday morning, he hadn’t left her thoughts. She had never been in love before, or at least she thought at one point she was, but the man turned out to be a bit of a scoundrel. 

There was hardly any time for love during the war. When all she had time to think about was the patient stretched out before her in pain. Claire had spent very little time thinking about herself and so making the move to Scotland was one of the first decisions she made for herself in years. 

Jamie said an hour. So this gave Claire an hour to make herself look more presentable. When she reached her shop, she leaned the bike against the wall out back and dashed inside. Her belongings were few, but she wanted to look nice for the afternoon. 

She found her favorite blue cotton dress and changed into it. The weather outside was lovely, especially for Scotland, but she grabbed a light sweater just in case. The town excited her, and she would be glad for a chance to see more of it, and for Jamie to be the one to show her it. For someone who had only moved into town two days ago, Claire felt she was doing quite well. 

Glancing at her watch, she saw she still had a bit of time before Jamie arrived. With nothing else to do to occupy her mind, she went downstairs into the shop and busied herself with small tasks. 

What had to be thirty minutes later, a knock came from the door. Claire looked up to see a tall shadow in the doorway and smiled. Jamie stood on the other side, a large basket hooked on his arm and a small bouquet of flowers in his other hand. 

“For ye,” he smiled, handing them to her. 

“I’m the gardener, shouldn’t I be giving you flowers?” Claire laughed, but took them happily, leaving the door open for him to follow. “They’re lovely.” 

“Och, well I picked them as I walked,” Jamie smiled shyly and set the basket down at his feet. “I thought ye might like to see what the town has to offer in way of greenery.” 

“Thank you,” Claire grinned and sniffed the assortment of flowers. “I’ll just put them in a vase and we can go.” 

She walked to the back of the shop and grabbed the right size vase before putting a small amount of water in it from the sink. The flowers fit perfectly and as she placed the vase on the counter, they brightened up the room. 

“They look good in here,” Jamie smiled. “I expect this place will look beautiful once tis ready.” 

“I hope it will,” Claire sighed, her hands resting casually on her hips as she surveyed her shop. It was daunting, to see it bare, but also exciting and she knew she could bring life to it. “Would you like to come out back and see the greenhouse? It was the main reason that I picked this place.” 

“Aye,” Jamie smiled and followed her through the back. 

It was a decent sized greenhouse, with only two broken window panes that could be easily fixed. Claire assumed that someone had previously had a sort of gardening shop here at one point. When she asked around for a space with a greenhouse, she had never imagined to find one with everything she needed. 

“I’ll have every herb you can imagine,” Claire pointed out to Jamie as he walked beside her. “Ones for eating or for medicinal purposes. Then of course, I’ll have all sorts of flowers from roses to hydrangeas. I would love to grow some forget-me-nots as well if I can get a hold of some seeds.” 

When Claire looked at Jamie, he was looking at her with a funny expression on his face, and Claire felt self-conscious. She reached up to her face, wiping at her cheeks, wondering if she had something on her face. 

“What are you looking at?” She asked. 

“Och,” Jamie shook his head, as if he had been in a trance and hadn’t realized it. “I just like hearin’ ye talk about yer wee plants. Tis no’ often ye get to talk wi’ someone wi’ such a passion for things.” 

“I could say the same about you and your bakery,” Claire said. “You do love it, don’t you?”

“I do,” Jamie nodded. “I’ve been around it my whole life.” 

Claire wondered then what it must feel like to grow up in the same village where one was born. She had only vague memories of her parents — they died when she was only five years old, and for the rest of her life until she was eighteen, she lived with her Uncle Lamb traveling all around the world. Meanwhile, Jamie had been born and raised in the same city, he probably had memories of walking through the village as a boy. 

“Do you live near here?” Claire asked. 

“Aye, my sister and I live just a short walk from here wi’ our mam,” Jamie said and a sadness came over his face. Claire took a step closer to him, reaching out instinctively and touching his arm. 

“My Da passed just a few years ago,” Jamie said, confirming what Claire had wondered previously. “The shop was his, and I took it over after he was gone. I suppose tis why I feel so passionately about it — because he did.” 

“I think that’s a wonderful thing to do for your father,” Claire squeezed his arm. 

They both stood there quietly for a few moments before Jamie drew in his breath. “Shall we go? I ken I’m famished and I reckon ye are too.” 

“Let’s,” Claire grinned. 

Claire let him take the lead, as she clearly had no idea where she was going. He offered her his arm which she took and together they started walking down the street. There were a few people out and about, but it was quiet and peaceful. 

“Ye said ye moved from London?” Jamie asked. 

“Yes, I did. I lived there before the war and then I volunteered as a nurse and spent the next several years in France,” Claire said. 

“Och, I went to university in Paris,” Jamie said, shocking Claire. 

“Really?” Claire squeezed his arm. “But I thought you said you had always lived here?”

“I was born and raised here, aye, tis true,” Jamie nodded, seemingly pleased to have shocked her. “I studied there for three years, but sadly I didna finish my studies. I received a letter from my mam… about my Da.” 

“Oh, Jamie,” Claire gasped softly. 

“He had fallen ill, ye ken,” he said sadly as they walked over a small hill. “So, my mam suggested that I come home to say goodbye, only that he hung on for a bit longer than we all expected. And when he passed, there was a lot to figure out wi’ the shop. We would have had to give it up had I no’ taken it over.” 

“What were you studying at school then?” 

“I wanted to be a teacher,” Jamie smiled wistfully, glancing down at Claire. “Does that surprise ye?”

“Well, I don’t know much about you,” Claire smiled. “I suppose anything would surprise me at this point.” 

“I planned on coming back here or maybe going to Edinburgh and teachin’, but I never finished my studies,” he shrugged. “But I suppose it all worked itself out. I love the bakery and my Da loved it as well. I can feel him there sometimes if that doesna sound too silly.” 

“Not at all,” Claire felt her throat closing. 

“Ah, there it is,” Jamie pointed out in front of him to a wide open grassy area. Claire had been so captivated by Jamie’s story that she hadn’t been paying any attention to her surroundings. They had been walking alongside the road that led out of the village and were now looking out at a great wide open glen with mountains surrounding them. 

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!” Claire exclaimed, her hand flying to her chest. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in all my life.” 

“Neither have I,” Jamie grinned, but he wasn’t looking out at the glen. “Shall we sit?”

“Oh, I should have brought a blanket of some sort,” Claire cursed herself. 

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” Jamie said proudly and reached into the basket he had brought along. “I’ve thought of everythin’.” 

He pulled out a deep red tartan plaid and flung it out in front of him, letting the wind unfold it as he placed it down on the grass. They both took a seat, and began to take things out of the basket. 

“My goodness,” Claire said with wide eyes. “This basket must weigh a ton! How did you manage carrying it all this way?”

“Kneading dough is good for the muscles,” Jamie smirked and Claire shamelessly let her eyes drift over his body. It was true, he was very fit and this wasn’t the first time Claire had thought so. 

“I didna ken exactly what ye might like so I just brought all the fixings for a sandwich. Plus those wee croissants ye like so much,” Jamie smiled. 

“It all looks so delicious,” Claire licked her lips and felt her stomach growl at the spread before her. “I do have to thank you, Jamie. For being so kind to me — a stranger.” 

“Well, yer no’ a stranger anymore,” Jamie smiled and laid his hand gently over her knee. There was a buzz of electricity in the air as he touched her. 

“I’m starving,” Claire blushed and Jamie moved his hand, coughing to clear his throat. They fixed their sandwiches and Claire embarrassingly moaned as she took the first bite — it was heavenly. 

“This bread is absolutely delectable,” Claire wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “Compliments to the chef.” 

“I will let him know ye are verra pleased,” Jamie laughed. “Ye know, I could teach ye one day to make yer own bread. Tis no’ verra hard once ye learn it.” 

“Really?” Claire asked. “But then if I made my own bread, I wouldn’t need to come round to the bakery anymore.” 

Claire bit the inside of her cheek, wondering why on earth she had said that out loud. She had known this man for all of two days and here she was, admitting she had only come to his shop to see him. 

“Well,” Jamie coughed, the tips of his ears turning a bright pink. “Perhaps I shouldna teach ye then if that’s how it’s goin’ to be.” 

Claire took another bite of her sandwich to stop more words coming out of her mouth. 

“I said I’d teach ye how to make one type of bread,” Jamie said thoughtfully. “There’s still more things at the bakery ye’d come by for… like these croissants.” He held up one and took a bite out of it.

Claire reached for it, but he pulled it back, laughing. Abandoning her own sandwich, Claire lunged for the croissant again and Jamie moved his hand high into the air. 

“Give me it!” Claire laughed and reached up, but lost her balance, tumbling on top of Jamie. She lay there in a fit of giggles on his chest. He brought the croissant in between them, and Claire held Jamie’s gaze as she took a bite out of it. 

“Delicious,” she said with a mouthful. One of Jamie’s hands settled on her waist and she has the urge to push the croissant away and kiss him, but she didn’t want to come on too strong. 

All of a sudden, Jamie’s face turned red and he was pushing her off him. He crossed his legs awkwardly and then it dawned on her. She had just been lying on top of his body, chewing on one of his own baked goods. Claire didn’t want to assume Jamie had caught feelings for her, but the deep crimson of his cheeks and position of his body just now told her otherwise. 

“Sorry,” Jamie coughed. 

“Don’t apologize,” Claire smiled softly and tried not to laugh. There was a reason why this blue dress was her favorite. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer. For you to show me how to make my own bread.” 

“Really?” Jamie grinned, his body already relaxing. “That’ll be great! And then maybe ye’ll let me come and help ye wi’ yer shop. Surely ye canna fix it up all on yer own?”

“Actually,” Claire mused. “I would be grateful for your help with the heavier things. And I have a bit of painting that I would like to do on the outside of the building.” 

“I’ll help wi’ anythin’ ye need, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned. “Anything at all.” 

Claire put her remnants of her sandwich back in the basket and then lay down on the plaid. “Do you mind if we stay out here a while longer? It’s such a lovely day.”

“I dinna mind,” Jamie said, laying down next to her. 

A light breeze drifted past them, and Claire let her eyes shut as she took a deep breath of fresh air. She was all too aware of Jamie’s presence next to her — his body radiating heat in every direction. With her eyes still closed, she felt his hand move next to hers and then his pinky finger nudged hers. 

With a burst of joy, Claire moved her own little finger and wrapped it around his, feeling hopeful for the first time in many years. 


	3. Hot Buns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire goes to the bakery for her first lesson...

** _April 17th, 1946_ **

Weeks had passed since their picnic, but Jamie had thought of it nearly every day. He fell asleep at night picturing Claire in her bonny blue dress, and his hands itched with the feeling of her skin on his. 

At work, Jamie was slower than usual and even Jenny noticed. His head was not on the dough in front of him, but imagining what it would be like to kiss Claire Beauchamp. They had seen each other in the village, but only in passing. Claire’s shop was taking all of her attention, and the bakery had an influx of orders. 

Jamie was in the kitchen now, working on a brioche bread. He found that his mind instantly cleared whenever he was in the kitchen, hands deep in dough. As a young boy, he used to sit on the counter and watch his grandfather and father make all the bread. He was fascinated by the science of it, and how just a few minutes too soon or too long could completely change the texture of the bread. 

He was thinking about his father whenever Jenny walked in with a vase of flowers. 

“Where did ye get those?” Jamie asked, leaving his dough on the counter. 

It was a beautiful assortment of flowers — white roses, purple Scottish thistles and heather with other bits of greenery. He knew where it’d come from, _who_ it’d come from. 

“Claire Beauchamp just dropped them off,” Jenny said and Jamie raced towards the door, hoping to catch her before she was gone. 

“She’s left already!” 

With no sight of the curly brown hair, Jamie walked defeatedly back into the kitchen. He wanted to see her badly, but the bakery was keeping him busy and by the looks of the bouquet before him, so was Claire’s shop. 

“Tis a beautiful arrangement,” Jenny smiled. “I take it her garden is comin’ along quite nicely.” 

“Aye,” Jamie said quietly and touched the petal of one of the white roses. 

Jenny smacked him on the side of the arm and Jamie jumped, staring down at his ferocious sister. 

“What’d ye do that for, Janet?!”

“Because yer a wee numptie, that’s why!” Jenny scoffed. “If ye are goin’ to mope around this bakery all the live long day, then I won’t be here to see it. I ken ye have feelin’s for the lassie.” 

“What?” Jamie blinked. “We’ve only had a few conversations.” 

Jenny rolled her eyes, “Sure, but she’s sent ye flowers and ye’ve been sendin’ her bread of no charge these past weeks. I reckon ye both have feelin’s for each other, but don’t know how to go about saying it!” 

“Maybe yer right,” Jamie said under his breath and leaned against the counter, catching a whiff of the flowers. 

“I ken I’m right, James Fraser,” Jenny smirked. “I always am.” 

“So, what should I do then?” 

“Ye should go and talk to her, Christ, do anythin’!” Jenny begged him. “I dinna think I can stand bein’ here much longer if all yer goin’ to do is wallow.” 

Making up his mind, Jamie crossed the room and found a pad of paper and a pen. He wrote a short note, asking Claire to come to the bakery tomorrow. “I’ll drop it off at her place tonight when we walk home.”

“That’s a step,” Jenny nodded and feeling her job was done, went back to the storefront, leaving Jamie on his own. 

With Good Friday in just two days, Jamie knew exactly what he wanted to bake with Claire — that is, if she had time to come tomorrow. Hot Cross Buns were the traditional baked good and they always sold loads over the Easter weekend. Tomorrow he would be in the kitchen all day, but hopefully Claire would be willing to help and keep him company. 

++++++

When Claire woke the next morning, the last thing she expected to find when she went downstairs was a piece of paper that had been pushed under the door. 

Claire’s stomach did somersaults as she read it. 

_“Meet me at the bakery for your first lesson… J.F.” _

Her shop had been taking all of her attention, so she thought at least for today, it could be put on the back burner. While she was anxious to open her shop — which would be happening in two weeks — she desperately wanted to spend time with Jamie. 

Claire went into the small tiled bathroom to assess the damage. Her hair looked like a bird’s nest, but that wasn’t new. She piled it on top of her head in a loose bun, tugging on small curls near her face to fall free. Normally, she could care less about her appearance, but she wanted to look nice today. 

“He’s just a man,” Claire said to herself in the mirror as she powdered her nose for the second time. Sure, he was just a man, but a very attractive, kind and lovely man. 

She was surprised with herself, with her feelings for Jamie. There was only one time during the war that she felt remotely this way, and that had been with one of the officers, Frank Randall. He had charmed her and dined with her one evening that ended up being the night she lost her virginity. Claire thought she was in love with him, but when she woke up the next morning, the man was gone without a trace. She’d been broken, and alone, lying there wondering what she’d done wrong. Mostly, she blamed her inexperience, but she also blamed her naiveté.

Claire was wiser and older now, and had learned to practice patience when it came to love. Perhaps that’s why she was taking things with Jamie so slow. So slow that she had almost been avoiding him for fear that she would pounce on him when she had the chance or worse, mess up a perfectly good friendship. 

Even now as she rode her bike to the bakery, her hands were sweaty and her stomach fluttered with butterflies at the mere thought of seeing him. He might be just a man, but he was a man Claire was falling in love with every passing day. 

There was a sign that read “Closed” as she walked up to the door. Jamie had told her to meet here though so she tried the door and it opened with ease. The bell rang as she entered an empty shop. 

“Is that ye, Jenny?” Jamie’s voice came from the kitchen. “Did ye go all the way to Glasgow to deliver the parcel?” He said with humor in his voice. 

Claire walked behind the counter and towards the kitchen. “It isn’t Jenny,” she said, “It’s me… Claire.” 

He turned quickly, nearly dropping the ball of dough in his hands on the floor at the sight of her. 

“Och, of course,” he grinned broadly. “To be honest, I wasna sure ye’d show up.” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Claire asked, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. 

“Perhaps ye had a flower emergency,” Jamie chuckled. “Anyways, I’m glad ye came. Jenny is out on a delivery and as ye saw we’re closed for today. We have to make a lot of hot crossbuns for this weekend.” 

“Oh, I love those!” Claire smiled and walked further into the kitchen. Now that he mentioned it, she could smell the fresh baked buns that were sitting out to cool. “Is that what you’re going to teach me today?”

“Aye,” he plopped the dough on the counter. “Lots and lots of it. Come here.” 

She took a tentative step towards him and faced the counter. “You should just know now that I’m not very skilled in the kitchen. So, don’t blame me when this batch comes out very poorly.” 

“Well, it won’t come out poorly, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned. “That’s what I’m here for.” 

He stood beside her and began to knead the dough in front of him, moving his hands back and forth. Claire watched the muscles in his arms flex with every push and pull of the dough. Her mouth was watering, but not because of the bread. 

“Do your arms every get tired from doing that all day long?” She asked. 

“Aye,” he nodded. “By the end of the day, I’m fair loused — tired that is. Would ye wanna try?”

“Sure,” Claire nodded and reached for the dough in front of Jamie. 

“First, cover yer wee hands wi’ a bit of flour so they dinna stick to the dough,” he said and picked up a small handful of dough before rubbing his hands over hers. “Then ye just move yer hands like I did for a few minutes until it isna so sticky.” 

“Like this?” Claire asked, pressing her hands gently into the dough. 

“A wee bit firmer,” Jamie said and stepped behind her, wrapping his arms over her to touch the dough. “Like this, ye ken.” 

Jamie had massive hands, and he pressed them over hers into the dough, showing her how to knead it. He was all too aware of how close his body was to hers at the moment and he hoped she couldn’t hear how rapidly his heart was beating. Their hands began in a sort of dance, firmly moving the dough together. It took all of his self control to not lean down and place a kiss to the back of her neck where he could see a small freckle. 

“I think I’m getting the hang of it,” Claire said a moment later. 

“Aye,” he cleared his throat. “It’s lookin’ bonny enough to eat!” 

“Not before we cook it,” she laughed. “I don’t know how I feel about eating raw dough.” 

“Trust me,” he chuckled. “It doesna taste too good.” They continued to knead the dough until it was ready. “Alright, now we’ll cover that dough and let it rise for about an hour.” 

“Great,” Claire said and took her hands off the dough. Jamie’s arms were still wrapped around her and she was unable to move. Sensing this, he took a step back and reached for a towel to wipe his hands on. “Do we need to make more dough while this rises?”

“Aye,” Jamie nodded. “Now I can teach ye from the beginning. Ye walked in right in the middle.” 

Jamie pulled out another large bowl and began to explain to Claire what ingredients they would be using. It wasn’t very complicated, but it took precision. Too much yeast and the bread might rise too quickly and then collapse in the oven. Too much kneading and the buns would be hard as rocks. Baking was a science, and Jamie was thrilled to be sharing it with Claire now. 

As he instructed her with the ingredients, letting her pour each one into the bowl, he couldn’t stop watching her. Seeing how she bit her bottom lip in concentration as she measured out the salt, and then looked to him for confirmation. Seeing how her face would light up as the ingredients became a proper mixture. 

“Surely we don’t need all these raisins?” She asked, scooping out a small handful to eat before Jamie poured in the rest. 

When it came time to knead this mixture of dough, Jamie told himself he would let her do it. That there was no reason for him to show her how again, so he was surprised when it was Claire that asked him for help. 

“Can you remind me how to do it?” 

“Hmm?” He blinked, having been lost in his thoughts. 

Claire laughed, and pressed a flour covered hand to her cheek leaving a print. “Can you show me again?”

“Of course, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned and came to stand behind her. She was so small and fit perfectly against his chest. The urge to touch her was strong, but he settled for simply her hands. “Like this, aye?”

They kneaded the dough together again, only this time slower. Claire kept turning her head to look back up at him. Jamie’s hands stopped and then so did hers as they stared into each other’s eyes. 

“Ye’ve a wee bit of flour on yer cheek, a nighean,” Jamie pointed out, his finger brushing against her face. 

“Do I?” She turned in his arms until she was facing him, her back to the counter. Jamie’s heart was beating so fast he thought it might actually burst. 

He cupped her face, his thumb rubbing softly over her cheek until the flour was gone. Jamie was drowning in her whisky eyes, and then Claire wrapped her arms around his waist and he gladly surrendered to their depths. 

“Claire,” he said softly. “I would verra much like to kiss ye. May I?”

“Yes,” she nodded, not able to contain the smile that spread across her lips. The very lips that Jamie kissed half a second later. Claire was intoxicated by him, the vanilla taste of his lips and the warmth of his hand on her cheek. For someone so strong and large, he was a very gentle man. 

Her hands slid up along his back, feeling grooves that created a question as to how he got them. Before she could ask, however, his tongue parted her lips and pressed against hers. Claire melted like butter against his body, feeling limp and absolutely splendid. 

She had never wanted someone as badly as she wanted him. It was there in that bakery that Claire fell for Jamie. And unbeknownst to her, Jamie was falling head over heels in love with her in that same moment. 

His hand squeezed her waist, and his body pressed her up against the counter. Their breaths mingled, hot and quick. Jamie looked at her, a silent question between them and Claire nodded — she wanted this. He picked her up, setting her on the counter and stood between her legs. 

“Oh God,” Jamie sighed. “Sassenach.” 

“Jamie,” Claire said against his lips. She latched her hands into his curls, tugging slightly. Jamie’s hands rested on her bare knees and he began to push the material of her dress up her thighs, exposing the milky white of her skin. 

Just then, the bell from the front door dinged. Jamie and Claire broke apart, both panting and looked to their right. Hopping down from the counter, Claire had just enough time to rearrange her dress before Jenny walked in. 

“Oh, Claire!” She smiled. “Tis good to see ye again. Hopefully ye’ll come round more often.” 

“Good to see ye too, Janet,” Jamie nearly scowled. Lord knows what would have happened next had she not walked in when she did. 

“Yes,” Claire coughed and knew that her cheeks were a bright shade of red. “I think I’ll be visiting a lot more often. My shop opens in just two weeks!” 

“Och, will it?” Jamie smiled. “Did ye need help wi’ the paintin’ still?” 

“I do actually! That’s one of the last things and I just can’t seem to get myself to do,” she laughed. “You’re welcome to come and help too, Jenny.” 

Jamie eyed his sister, willing her to turn down the offer. 

“Paintin’ does sound like fun,” Jenny said and then saw Jamie’s look. “But, I dinna think I’ll be able to. I’m sure Jamie’s up for it, aren’t ye brother?”

“Always,” he grinned proudly. “Just let me know when,” he told Claire. 

Jenny gave her brother a wink and then picked up a few envelopes on a nearby desk. “I’m headin’ home early to help Mam wi’ dinner, Jamie. Can ye lock up by yerself?”

“Aye,” he nodded. “We’ll just finish up here first.” 

“Twas lovely to see ye again, Claire,” Jenny said and hugged her goodbye. “Please dinna be a stranger around here.” 

Once Jenny was left, they both stood there quietly, not sure what to say after their recent encounter. 

“So,” Claire said. 

“I hope ye realize I would never ha’ done anythin’ here in the bakery,” Jamie said, feeling flustered. “I told myself I wouldna even kiss ye! But then ye looked so bonny wi’ the flour on yer cheek and —“ 

“It’s alright!” Claire laughed and took a step closer to him, sliding one hand around his waist. “I liked it.” 

“Ye did?” One ruddy eyebrow raised. 

“Very much,” she said through a smile. “And as much as I would have liked for Jenny to not have walked in when she did, I don’t think this counter would have been very comfortable.” 

“Indeed,” Jamie blushed. 

“I would appreciate your help with the painting,” Claire said looking up at him. “Would you be able to come by after the Easter holidays and help?”

Jamie wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “Aye, Sassenach.” 

Claire stood up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away. “We’d better get back to baking if you’re going to make it home for dinner in time.” 

“Well, how about ye come home wi’ me for dinner?” Jamie asked as he picked up the dough they had been working on earlier. 

“And meet your mother?” Claire’s eyes went wide. 

“Och, aye,” Jamie grinned. “Ye’ve lived here almost two months, Sassenach. My mam’s dyin’ to meet the wee lassie wi’ the garden shop.” 

There was no time like the present, and if she was honest with herself, Claire had been wondering about the woman that raised Jamie. What was she like? Would she approve of Claire? 

“Sure then,” Claire agreed. “I just wish I’d worn something better to meet your mother in.” 

“She’ll love ye,” Jamie cupped her cheek. “Ye look bonny, Claire. Just bonny.” 


	4. Simple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire has dinner with the Fraser's and Jamie helps Claire paint her shop.

In all his twenty-five years of living, Jamie had never brought home a lass. There was never anyone he was serious about, and the last time he even had feelings for a girl was when he stayed with his uncles before the war. He’d been young and foolish, sleeping with the granddaughter of the cook and thinking that he was a man. 

He was a boy then, a very stupid boy, but now he was a man. A man who was hopelessly in love with Claire Beauchamp, even if she didn’t know it yet. He only wished his father were still alive to meet her. It was his father, Brian, who told him that when he found the girl he was going to marry, he would know right then and there. With Claire, it was instantaneous. 

His mother, Ellen, was in her early fifties, but looked much younger. She had red hair much like Jamie’s, but it was fading now to a more sandy color. Ellen Fraser was a gentle woman, but she was also fierce and stubborn, just like her children. 

Jamie and Claire had finished the hot cross buns and locked up the shop. Now, they were walking through the door of Jamie’s childhood home, Lallybroch. Upon first seeing the old stone house, Claire had gasped and commented on how beautiful it was. Jamie took pride in his heritage and he was glad to be sharing it with her. 

“Are you sure your mother won’t mind me joining for dinner?” Claire asked for the second time as they stood in the entrance. 

“Aye, dinna fash, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned. “She loves company, and I ken she’ll love ye.” 

A moment later, his sister came in from the kitchen, a red apron tied around her waist. When she spotted Claire next to Jamie, her eyes went wide. 

“There ye are, Jamie. I thought ye’d never make it back,” she smirked. “And it looks like we have company. Tis good to see ye again so soon, Claire. I’ll just go and tell mam.” 

“I really don’t want to impose, Jamie,” Claire said softly and to calm her, Jamie grabbed her hand and squeezed. 

“After we eat, I’ll give ye the grand tour of the place. But, by now I’m sure Jenny’s told my mam yer here, so there’s no point in keepin’ her waitin’,” Jamie grinned and led Claire through the wide living room and through a door that opened to a long corridor. The smells coming from the kitchen made Jamie’s stomach grumble and he realized he hadn’t eaten lunch. 

“Hello mam,” Jamie said as they stood in the doorway. Ellen turned around from the oven, placing a hot dish on the counter nearby. Her face lit up, as it always did when she saw her son. Then, her eyes darted to Claire, taking in the woman Jamie had brought home. 

“This is Claire Beauchamp,” he said nervously. “I’ve asked her to join us for dinner, I hope that’s alright.” 

“Of course it is, lad,” Ellen smiled warmly and came around the table in front of them. Expecting a handshake, Claire stuck her hand out in front of her, but Ellen wrapped her strong arms around her and held her close. “We hug in this family, Claire. I’m verra pleased to meet ye.” 

“As am I,” Claire smiled. “Your home is so lovely, and it smells wonderful in here. Is there anything I can do to help? I’m afraid I didn’t bring anything on such short notice.” 

“Och, dinna fash, lass. Yer our guest and besides, dinner is ready!” Ellen smiled and took Claire’s arm from Jamie, showing her to the table. Jamie couldn’t help but laugh; his mother was protective and it seemed she had now taken Claire under her wing. 

“I’m sure Jamie willna like me sayin’ this, but he’s mentioned ye a few times, Claire,” Ellen said with a certain twinkle in her eye as they all sat down at the table. “He said ye moved here not too long ago from London, was it?”

“Yes,” Claire cleared her throat. “I wanted a fresh start after the war and I thought what better place than the Highlands!” 

As they chatted, food was passed around the table. It was Jamie’s favorite, rabbit stew with all the vegetables they grew in their garden. He was so hungry that he ended up stuffing his mouth and let his mam do all the talking. 

“I’ve lived in Scotland all my life,” Ellen said to Claire. “I moved to this verra house wi’ Jamie and Jenny’s father almost thirty years ago!” 

“Jamie’s told me about his father,” Claire reached for Ellen’s hand, squeezing lightly. “He sounded like a really wonderful man.” 

“Aye, he was,” Jenny smiled softly, remembering. Jamie wished more than anything that his father could be here now to meet Claire, to offer him advice in the ways of the heart. 

“And where are yer parents, Claire?” Ellen asked. 

Jamie had wondered the very same question. On their picnic, they had spent a lot of time talking about Jamie’s family, and had never got around to Claire’s. What Claire said next shocked him, and made him want to hold her in his arms. 

“They died when I was young,” Claire said softly, looking down at her hands on her lap. “I barely remember them. I lived with my Uncle Lamb up until a few years ago when he passed away during the war. I suppose I’m an orphan now.” 

“Oh lass,” Ellen’s hand wrapped around Claire’s shoulder, pulling her in for a hug. “I’m verra sorry to hear that. Losin’ the ones ye love can bring such pain. Sadly, I ken that all too well.” 

Claire’s eyes met Jamie’s across the table and he gave her a smile, receiving a small one in return. While he loved that his mother was getting along so well with Claire, what he really wanted was to get her alone. 

“I’m so glad that ye’ve moved here, dear,” Ellen smiled and Jenny nodded in agreement. “It’s always nice to meet new faces.” 

“I canna wait until yer wee shop is open too,” Jenny grinned. “I can just see it now — all the flowers and herbs lighting up the place, it’ll be just bonny.” 

“With Jamie’s help, the place will be almost finished,” Claire smiled. “A fresh coat of paint, and some finishing touches and I’ll be open for business!” 

“We’ll be first in line,” Ellen smiled, clapping her hands together and then she rose from the table. “I’ll clean up. Jenny would ye mind helpin’ me?”

“Aye, mam,” Jenny smirked at Jamie as she stood from the table. 

Finally, what Jamie had been waiting for since the moment they arrived — a chance to be alone with Claire again. 

“I’m goin’ to show Claire the rest of the house, and then I’ll walk her home. Thank ye for dinner mam, twas delicious,” he kissed his mother on the cheek and then ruffled his sister’s hair against her protests. “Come wi’ me,” he grabbed Claire’s hand, leading her back out to the living room. 

They walked in silence as he led her up the stairs. He felt a tug on his hand and looked behind him to see Claire stopped at a painting. Jamie’s heart sank as he realized which painting she was looking at. 

“Who’s the other little boy?” Claire asked, pointing at the painting. It was of Jamie and his older brother Willie and their dog. It was obvious which one was Jamie — red flaming hair, blue determined eyes and a stubborn smirk on his face. 

“That’s my brother… Willie,” Jamie said as he stood next to Claire, his hand brushing against hers. “He died just a few years after this painting was done. Twas the measles, and not even a week later he was gone.” 

“Oh, Jamie,” Claire grabbed his hand, wishing she could offer enough comfort in this simple hand gesture. She knew what loss felt like — the numbness that washed over you and clouded everything else. The pain that hit you out of nowhere when something reminded you of the ones you had lost. Yes, Claire knew all too well what grief was like and she saw it now reflected in Jamie’s eyes. 

“He was goin’ to take over my father’s bakery,” Jamie said. “He was properly trained, and even after he died, I pursued my studies as ye ken to become a teacher. But after my father… I knew what I had to do.” 

“Even in all that pain,” Claire reached up and cupped his cheek, wiping away a few tears that had begun to fall. “You found joy in baking and by doing it you’re keeping your father and your brother’s memory alive. They would be so proud of you… no matter what you do with your life.” 

Jamie leaned forward and rested his forehead against Claire’s, feeling safe in her presence. Like he really could accomplish everything he set out to do, and he knew with Claire by his side, anything was possible. In the short time they had known each other, he had grown accustomed to the way she made him feel — invincible. 

“I want to show ye something,” he said softly and tugged on her hand, pulling her after him down the hallway. He opened the door to their library — walls covered with books piled high. But what he really wanted to show her was out the window. 

“Look,” he said and positioned her in front of him. The view from this spot of the house was breathtaking. The sun was setting over the horizon, just on the edge of the moor and it made the land all around it glow. 

“This is stunning,” Claire said, feeling breathless. “I can see your garden out back, and all the trees for miles.” She looked up at Jamie, feeling that same breathless feeling. “I’ve only been in this country a short time, but already, I’m falling in love with it.” 

“Aye,” Jamie agreed, his finger coming to rest under her chin. “It’s a good place to fall in love, Sassenach.” He leaned down and sealed their lips, smiling as he felt Claire’s hands wrap around his waist. 

++++++

A few days later, once the rush of Easter was gone, Claire was standing in the middle of her shop, waiting for Jamie to arrive. They were going to attempt to paint the interior white, which was the opposite of what it was now — a dark, and depressing brown. Claire was hoping that the white would brighten the place up and also be a blank background to showcase all of her colorful flowers. 

She’d been pacing all morning. Her nerves were shot and that was only because of Jamie. Meeting his mother and seeing his family home had been one of the most pleasant experiences Claire had ever had. Since she was all alone now, she desperately missed having a family to go to. She felt accepted by Jamie’s family, and she felt loved, even in such a short amount of time. 

Moving to Inverness had been the best decision Claire had ever made. In the time she had been here, her nightmares from the war had nearly ceased. Most nights, she slept peacefully, and rarely did she wake in a cold sweat, afraid that at any minute a bomb would drop. There was a peace here in Scotland. 

Claire had spent far too long deciding what to wear this morning, and had settled on an older pair of overalls and an already paint stained white shirt. Her hair was tied back with a bandana she had set out all the tools they would need for the day. 

Several cans of white paint, roller brushes, small brushes for the base and corners and tarps to protect the floor. Now all that was missing was Jamie. 

As if her thoughts had conjured him, a soft knock came from the front door and Claire turned to see Jamie coming in, the small bell overhead ringing. 

“Good morning, Sassenach,” Jamie smiled brightly. In his arms, he was carrying a brown paper bag and based on just the smell alone, Claire knew it would be delicious. “I’ve brought us breakfast, I dinna ken if ye’ve eaten or no.” 

“Oh, I haven’t!” Claire walked over to the bag to inspect it’s contents. Inside were croissants, and an assortment of other pastries that would last them the day, if not several days. “I don’t usually eat breakfast, but I think I can make an exception today.” 

“Ye dinna eat breakfast?!” Jamie asked, astounded that someone would skip the most important meal of the day. “How do ye no’ eat breakfast, Claire?”

Shrugging and reaching into the bag, Claire pulled out what was a cheese danish and took a large bite. “I just never feel hungry in the mornings,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand as she chewed. 

“I could eat bowls and bowls of parritch in the mornings,” Jamie replied. “And… I do!” 

“Parritch,” Claire said, taking another bite. “That doesn’t exactly sound too appealing, but I like this just fine.” 

“Thank ye,” he grinned shyly and reached up to brush a crumb off the side of her cheek. “I do have to tell ye that my mam hasna stopped talkin’ about ye since ye came for dinner the other night. She loves ye and expects ye to come around more often.” 

“Really?” Claire felt herself blushing, a warmth spreading through her. “Well, I’d love to if the offer ever presents itself,” she smiled up at him. 

Jamie stood there, his fingers itching to reach up and take her face between both her hands and kiss her. But he refrained and instead tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Ye can come have dinner wi’ us every night if it suits ye, Sassenach.” 

Finishing the last bite of her danish, Claire grinned and turned away from Jamie to show him the paint. 

“Now, I realize it would have been much easier to paint when there was nothing in here,” Claire waved her hands around at the shop. “But, if we’re careful and not flinging paint around, I think we can manage.” 

“Seems easy enough,” Jamie said, taking in the room. It was a medium sized room, and hopefully would take them just the one day for two coats of paint. “Are ye still plannin’ on paintin’ the outside too?”

“Yes,” Claire nodded. “But, obviously we won’t have time for that today, and I understand if you need to get back to your bakery so I won’t be hurt if you can’t come back this week and help with that.” 

“I’ll help ye,” Jamie said. “Jenny can mind the shop for awhile.” 

Before they could get started, Claire went over to her record player that was set up near the front counter and dropped the needle on her most recent record of jazz. The bright sounds of the trumpet and saxophone filled the room and Claire bounced back over to Jamie. 

“Shall we get started?” 

They both picked up a roller and dipped it in the paint. Hours and two coats of paint later, the flower shop looked brand new — at least on the inside. 

“It really does look so much better,” Claire smiled, leaning up against the only non-painted item in the room. 

Jamie set his brush down, careful to not spill the half full bucket and came to stand next to Claire. He was sad that the job was done, because that meant that it was time to part from Claire. As he looked over at her, he noticed she had flecks of paint all over her face. 

“You’ve got paint all over ye, a nighean,” Jamie laughed and tried to wipe, but the paint was already dry. “Ye’ll have to scrub good tonight.” 

Claire touched her own face, feeling the flecks of paint. “Is it in my hair too?”

Jamie ran his fingers slowly through her hair, touching the curls and never wanting to let go. “Nah, yer hair is safe.” 

“Thank God for small mercies,” she laughed. “While you’re here, there is something out in the greenhouse I need help lifting, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course!” 

As they walked outside to the greenhouse, Claire noted that the sun was starting to go down. And with the way her stomach was growling, it was also time to find something to eat. 

“There’s a bench in the corner that I want to move and place just outside, but it’s so damn heavy.” 

“Dinna fash,” Jamie said and walked over to the large wooden bench. Claire was in the process of joining him so she could help him lift it, but by the time she reached the corner, Jamie was already lifting it off the ground. 

“Christ,” she muttered under her breath. His muscles flexed and Claire felt no shame in admiring the ease at which he lifted the bench. 

“Just over here then?” He asked, not even sounding out of breath. 

“Yes, just there against the outside of the wall,” Claire pointed. He set it down, adjusting it to the perfect spot. 

“Let’s test it out, shall we?” Jamie plopped down onto the bench, leaving enough room for Claire to join. “I’ve had fun wi’ ye today, Claire.” 

“I can’t thank you enough for helping me today. I don’t even know how long it would’ve taken if it was just me on my own,” she said. Their knees brushed against one another, and Claire felt the tension return. 

Jamie angled his body towards her, taking her hand between his. So far, they had kissed several times, but neither had had the courage to say what they were feeling. It was clear that something was happening between them, but what exactly, Jamie wasn’t sure. 

“Sassenach,” Jamie rubbed his fingers over the back of her hand. “I ken tis no’ a secret that I have feelings for you.” 

Claire felt her stomach twist at this admission. For weeks, she had been wanting to say something. And ever since their kiss at the bakery last week, it became clear it was mutual. 

“I think about ye all the time,” he said softly, all while holding her hand. “Ever since I fell of my bike and met ye. When I kissed ye…” 

“I felt it too,” Claire said quickly. “To be honest, I was afraid of my own feelings. How quickly they seemed to happen, but I’ve enjoyed every minute we’ve spent together.” 

“God, I want to kiss ye,” Jamie smiled lopsidedly. His hand cupped her cheek and she leaned against it. 

“I want you to,” she admitted. “Please.” 

Sitting on a bench in her garden, Claire and Jamie kissed, this time knowing exactly what it meant. It wasn’t rushed — it was perfect and simple, and suddenly everything fell into place. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I know this story has an "M" rating and so far it's been pretty "G" rated, but that will all change verra soon my friends!


	5. Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jamie helps Claire paint again and this time... things don't go as planned.

** _April 28th, 1946_ **

Claire’s flower shop was opening in three days. But there was still one thing left that needed to be done, and frankly, should have been done a long time ago — painting the exterior. 

At the moment, the outside of the small shop was a dingy brown, which wasn’t very welcoming to anyone that wanted to come and buy flowers or herbs. So Claire had bought a very pale light blue that would hopefully entice people to stop by. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t too hot — but it was Scotland so it was really never too hot. Claire was wearing an old green cotton dress with buttons all down the front. Her helper once again, Jamie, had come dressed in old looking trousers and a plain white button down. 

“You do realize that shirt will not be white when you leave,” Claire smirked, pointing her paint brush at him. 

“Well, it willna wi’ ye behind the brush,” Jamie laughed, dodging her brush. Claire was thankful that Jamie had come back to help her with this task considering he was tall enough to reach all the spots that Claire couldn’t. She was working on the lower half of the wall, while Jamie focused on the top. 

“When we’re all finished here, I’ll let you pick out some flowers to take home to your mother,” Claire said, squatting to paint near the front door. “I think she’d like some of the roses. I saw the roses at your house.” 

“Aye, she loves them,” Jamie smiled fondly. “She planted them herself when they first moved in to the place. You can always find her tending to her roses on a sunny day.” 

“I’ve been thinking about asking her to help me with the shop,” Claire said and looked at Jamie to gage his reaction. His face was always unreadable to Claire, whereas she was an open book whether she liked it or not. 

Jamie stood on the tips of his toes to reach a difficult spot. “I think ye should, Sassenach! It would give her somethin’ to do. No’ that she doesna have enough to do wi’ the farm, but she enjoys yer company.” 

“And I enjoy hers,” Claire smiled up at him and he smiled back. “That’s settled then. When she comes to the opening on Wednesday, I’ll ask her.” 

“Wednesday ye said?” Jamie asked. 

“Yes, the first of May,” Claire said and then moved to the other side of the door. “You know that old saying, “April showers bring May flowers”. I thought it was appropriate to open it on the first of May.” 

“Aye,” Jamie said and Claire thought he sounded a bit funny. “We’ll be there,” he grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it.” 

They continued to paint until they had only one part left — a small section on the left side of the building. Claire squatted down again, dipping her brush into the paint as Jamie reached above her. A moment later, Claire felt something drop into her hair. When she reached up and pulled her hand back, it was pale blue paint. 

“Oh Christ,” Jamie said immediately. “Oh God, Claire, I’m so sorry! I didna mean to get any in yer hair. Ah Dhia!” 

Claire wanted to be upset, she wanted to be furious that she now had paint in her hair that would most likely be very difficult to get out, but she started to laugh. Apparently her silent laughter looked like she was crying and Jamie bent down to wrap his arms around her gently. 

“Sassenach, I’m so sorry. I canna believe what I’ve done,” he said, sounding worried. “Will ye forgive me?”

Claire laughed audibly this time, and looked up at Jamie with tears in her eyes. “Forgive you? Oh Jamie,” she laughed. “It’s perfectly all right! It’s just hair after all. It’s actually quite funny.” 

“What?” Jamie sat back on his butt. “Tis really okay then?”

“Well, it’s not okay,” Claire said, motioning to her hair. “But it’s fine, Jamie. Don’t worry yourself over this. Because I’m going to have you help me wash it out!” 

“Aye,” Jamie laughed now, taking another look at his handy work. “I suppose we really should have thought over me painting over ye, mo nighean donn.” 

“What does that mean?” Claire asked. 

“Oh,” Jamie’s cheeks turned red. “It, um, means my brown haired lass.” 

Now it was Claire’s turn to blush a crimson red. “I always thought brown a rather dull color.” 

“Nah,” one side of Jamie’s mouth lifted up into a small smirk. “It’s like the water in a burn. The way it ruffles down the rocks,” he lifted his hand to touch a stray curl near her face. “The dark spots wi’ wee bits of auburn. Tis beautiful, Sassenach.” 

“Well, we better keep it beautiful by washing out this paint,” Claire smiled. 

Jamie stood to his feet and held out his hand for Claire. They still had one small spot of paint to finish, but Claire’s paint covered hair was a more pressing matter. Claire led him into the shop and up the stairs. This would be the first time that Jamie would see her room. 

It wasn’t much. Just a small room above the shop, complete with a stove, sink, bed in the corner and a bathroom fit with a clawfoot tub. 

“I’ll just lean my head over the water, and if you can use the shampoo to help get the paint out?” Claire held out a bottle of homemade shampoo. 

“Aye, of course,” he took it as Claire knelt down and turned on the warm water. “Let’s just hope I dinna mess it up more than I already have.” 

Once the water was warm, but not too hot, Claire placed her full head under the rushing water. Realistically, she would have taken off her dress before doing this, but with Jamie here with her, she thought it best to keep it on for the moment. Seeing that her hair was wet, Jamie poured a nice dollop of shampoo into his hands and reached down to Claire’s head. 

His hands were large, and covered her skull as he massaged the shampoo into her hair. Despite the slight crick that she was getting in her neck, it felt heavenly — it always did feel nice to have someone else wash your hair. 

“Tell me if I’m bein’ too rough,” Jamie said and Claire nodded. “The paint is bein’ a bit stubborn.” 

Jamie continued to work the shampoo into her hair, rubbing out the paint and washing it slide down the drain. Water trickled down Claire’s neck making her shiver and Jamie pulled his hands back. 

“Ye okay?” 

“Yes,” she said softly. In all reality, she was more than okay. 

Finally, the last of the paint came out of Claire’s hair and she told Jamie where to find the towels in the cupboard. He brought one back and Claire wrapped her hair into it, twisting it so it rested tall on her head. 

“Well, thank you,” she smiled. “I bet you didn’t think you’d be washing my hair when you stopped by today.” 

“No,” he chuckled, rubbing his neck with his hand. “I canna say I did.” 

“You know,” Claire said shyly. “If you wanted to kiss me again, you don’t need an invitation.” 

One of Jamie’s brows arched in surprise before he grinned and leaned down to kiss her. His large warm hand that had just been in her hair touched the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. 

“Are ye cold, Sassenach?” 

“No,” she shook her head. “Not cold at all.” 

There were no words that needed to be spoken for what they both wanted. As they looked into each other’s eyes, Jamie’s hand touched the towel on top of Claire’s head and untwisted it, letting it fall to the ground. Then his hands went to the first button on her dress. 

“Maybe we should step out of the bathroom?” Claire suggested. 

“Aye,” Jamie laughed with pink cheeks. He backed up slowly, not wanting to take his eyes off of Claire. They came to stand in front of the bed, and Claire stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him. 

“Are ye sure?” 

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in all my life, Jamie,” Claire whispered against his lips. His large hands returned to the buttons on her dress, unfastening each one. Now, Claire wished she had worn something that didn’t take so damn long to take off. 

“That’s a lot of buttons,” he joked as he bent down to reach the bottom ones. He stayed on his knees as the last one came undone. He slowly ran one hand up the back of her leg, feeling the smoothness of her skin. 

Claire’s breath caught in her throat. She shook off her dress and let it flutter to the ground around them. Jamie looked up at her, his mouth partially open. She was wearing a bra and panty set she had bought in Paris — a light cream silk. 

“Christ,” Jamie muttered and returned to his full height. “Yer the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Claire.” 

“Thank you,” Claire blushed. “But I do feel slightly under dressed.” 

He glanced down at himself, realizing that he was still fully clothed. Not bothering with all the buttons on his shirt, he yanked it over his head once the first few were undone. That’s when Claire gasped. 

“Oh, Jamie,” she said softly as she looked at him. 

“I meant to tell ye,” he said, looking down at his left arm. It was burned. “This is why I couldn’t fight in the war.” 

“What happened?” Claire reached out and carefully touched his arm, feeling the bumpy and healed over scars. 

“I was in the bakery alone one day,” Jamie said, his eyes shut as he remembered. “I was still new to everything. Our oven had been acting up and I had noticed a few sparks earlier in the day, but I thought nothing of it.” 

Claire ran her finger tips lightly over his skin, seeing gooseflesh rise in their wake. 

“When the fire started, there was nothing I could do,” he continued. “It caught on my shirt and I was in so much pain that I just fell to the floor. That’s when my Da ran in — he heard my screamin’. They managed to put out the flames, but it was too late for my arm.” He turned now, showing her his back. “It burned the top half of my arm as well as a bit of my back.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Claire said softly, feeling her chest tighten at seeing him this way. “I can’t even imagine what that must have felt like.” 

“Twas the worst pain I’ve ever felt,” Jamie said and turned to face her once again. “But yer touch, Sassenach…” he cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb against her lip. “It makes the pain disappear.” 

Their lips sealed, gentle and slow at first, but quickly became hungry. Jamie pulled his trousers off, tossing them somewhere in the room and he wrapped both his arms around Claire. She fit perfectly against him, and they both moaned whenever she flexed her hips and felt how hard he was. 

“I need you,” Claire said and took a step back, all while unfastening her bra and letting it fall to the ground. She took a seat on the edge of the bed and Jamie fell to his knees before her to worship her, love her, touch her. 

His hands slid up along her bare thighs, touching the silk of her panties before moving up her stomach. Claire could hardly breathe as she watched him, his eyes exploring her body with a look between lust and love. Her legs were on either side of his body, and he lowered his lips against her neck, softly sucking. 

“Jesus,” Claire muttered under her breath. For almost two months now, Claire had been wondering what it would feel like if he touched her with his tongue. Now that she knew, she never wanted him to stop. He kissed his way down to her collarbones, flicking his tongue out as if he was saying a prayer. 

When he reached her breasts, he pushed his hands underneath them, weighing them as he caught his breath. 

“Ye have no idea how beautiful ye are, Sassenach,” Jamie said. 

“I do believe you said that already,” Claire laughed, sliding her right hand into his curls. 

“I’ll keep sayin’ it until the day I die,” he smirked and then bent his head back down and placed a gentle kiss to her left breast. Her nipples became hard and he closed his mouth over one of them, his tongue flicking the bud. For such a large man, he was quite a gentle lover. 

The scruff of his beard made a tingling sensation shoot all over her body and Claire began to squeeze her thighs around him. Jamie pushed her breast further into his mouth, beginning to suck harder. Moans left Claire’s lips as he did the same to the other one. She would have happily sat here for hours with Jamie between her legs and his mouth at her breasts, but her belly was tight and she needed to feel him. 

“Take these off,” Claire tugged at his boxers and Jamie reluctantly pulled off of her chest, leaving her nipples red and swollen. 

As Jamie removed his boxers, Claire moved backwards on the bed, taking her panties off as well. She reached beside the bed and grabbed a condom, laughing to herself that it was finally coming to use. 

Her eyes trailed greedily down Jamie’s long body as he climbed onto the bed. She couldn’t help the wetness that was between her legs whenever she saw his cock for the first time. It was hard, pressed against his stomach, and with one long throbbing vein. 

Jamie moved between her legs, positioning his forearms on either side of her chest. Claire reached between their bodies and rolled the condom on, watching as Jamie’s eyelashes fluttered at her touch. 

“Yer goin’ to kill me, a nighean,” Jamie said softly. He cupped her cheek, and Claire turned her head slightly to capture his thumb in her mouth, sucking lightly. “Christ,” he mumbled.

Their bodies were flush, warm and Claire flexed her hips, communicating with her body was she so desperately needed. Jamie leaned up and he took himself in hand to guide into her slick folds. 

“Oh God!” 

“Mmmph.” 

Claire hooked one arm around his neck, letting her body adjust to him inside of her. Once he was pressed fully against her, he pulled back until just the tip was inside of her before pushing forward. His belly pressed down against hers and soon he began to roll his hips in a steady rhythm. 

Feeling like something would explode inside of her at any minute, Claire moved her hands along his back, feeling the light sweat that covered him. Her hand lingered on his hurt arm, squeezing lightly as he hit a deep spot inside of her. 

“Jamie,” she whispered, searching for his lips. Their moans died in each other’s mouths as he rolled his hips again and again. With a final thrust, Claire came absolutely undone underneath him, her body twitching and as her walls clenched around him, Jamie followed her into the abyss. 

They lay there for quite some time. Jamie’s head on Claire’s chest as their hearts returned to a normal rhythm. Claire’s hand found his curls, running her fingers slowly through them. His breath was hot against her skin. A smile formed on her lips as she glanced down at the state of them — one of Jamie’s legs covering her as he lay on his side, his arm wrapped around her waist. 

“This is no’ what I thought would happen at all,” Jamie finally said a few moments later. 

“Oh, you didn’t think you would end up naked in my bed?” She chuckled, tugging on his hair. “Because that’s exactly what I planned on.” 

“I don’t put it past ye,” Jamie smirked and kissed her neck before moving to rest his head on his hand. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here wi’ ye in my arms.” 

Claire felt like anything she would say wouldn’t be enough, so she just sealed their lips together and rolled into his side. 

“I fear your mother and sister will know exactly what we’ve been up to once they see us again on Wednesday,” Claire buried her face into his chest. 

“Oh aye,” he laughed. “I have no doubt they’ll give me a hard time for it. There’s nothin’ that those two women canna figure out.” 

Claire felt positively wonderful, and it didn’t matter to her that she and Jamie weren’t married or that they hadn’t waited until their wedding night. There was nothing in the world that could have stopped them — not a priest, a disgruntled mother or a natural disaster. There were forces working together to bring Jamie and Claire together, that she was sure of. 

“Speaking of Wednesday,” Jamie said, letting his fingers trail slowly down Claire’s arm. “Tis my birthday.” 

“What?” Claire abruptly sat up and looked down at him. “Your birthday? Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

He shrugged, “I usually dinna go all out for my birthday, and I’d rather spend it wi’ ye and seein’ yer shop open.” 

“I can change it to Thursday,” Claire said. “It’s really not a problem. I don’t want to take up the day!” 

“Nah,” Jamie brushed his finger over her nose. “Seein’ ye happy is all I need on my birthday. The first of May is the perfect day and ye willna change it, I won’t let ye.” 

Feeling like it was pointless to argue with a stubborn scot, Claire fell back against him. She placed a kiss to his neck and Jamie squirmed. 

“That tickles, Sassenach,” he laughed. 

Claire did it again, flicking her tongue against his neck. He kept wiggling underneath her and Claire moved until she was sitting on top of him and kept kissing his neck just under his ear. Jamie’s hands gripped her sides, trying to pry her off of him as he laughed. Quite unintentionally, his cock brushed against her, making them both stop. 

Silently, they stared at each other. Claire placed one hand on his chest and with her other, she intertwined their fingers. They were both still aroused and so Jamie pushed his hips upwards and slid inside of her. Claire’s hips rolled as she adjusted the angle. Jamie sat up, his hands sliding down to grip her lower back. 

Both of Claire’s legs wrapped around him as they slowly and tenderly pulled each other apart. There in Jamie’s arms, Claire gave her heart to him, feeling that there was no safer place in the world for it to be stored. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!


	6. Flourish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Jamie's birthday and the opening day of Claire's flower shop.

** _May 1st, 1946 _ **

Today was the day. Claire’s flower shop was finally opening. After months of cultivating and pruning, everything was just as she saw it in her mind. There was a strong smell of a wild garden, and Claire kept the front door open, hoping the smell would lure people in. 

Other than it being the first day of her shop opening, it was also Jamie’s birthday. Granted, she only found out that information three days ago — on a night she wouldn’t soon forget. 

They had spent the night in each other’s arms, whispering sweet nothings and talking about their pasts. It was a comfort to Claire to have someone she could really talk to and know that every word was heard. Jamie made her feel whole and safe. 

Her stomach was in knots waiting for him to arrive. But she was distracted by customers that kept pouring in, wanting to know more information about all the flowers she grew. 

Not only did she have a wide selection of flowers, from thistles to hydrangeas, she also had one corner of the shop dedicated to plants for medicinal purposes. One older woman, Moira, had asked for a salve that would help with dry itchy skin. 

“Is that peppermint I smell?” Moira asked, taking a whiff of the open jar that Claire held to her nose. 

“Indeed!” Claire grinned, scooping out a small bit. “This is all natural salve for even the driest hands. A bit of peppermint, chamomile, plantain, calendula and beeswax to help make it really smooth.”

Claire spread the salve over the woman’s hands and then the excess on her own. The smell was divine and Claire was quite proud of this mixture. She adored fresh scents, like eucalyptus and mint. 

“My skin feels softer already, lassie,” Moira smiled. “I’ll take a jar if ye please.” 

“Of course,” Claire grinned and picked up an unopened jar of the salve. “Just put this on your hands one to two times a day and you’ll see improvements within a week.” 

Walking over to the counter with Moira, Claire checked the woman out, tying her package in brown paper and with red string. As soon as she was finished with one customer, another was needing her help. 

Within the next hour, Claire had sold a few more balms and bouquets. Customers were also out back in her greenhouse, taking a look at the plants that were still growing. Claire was proud of her little shop, and felt that all her hard work was finally paying off. 

Having her hands in the earth, and growing something was one of the best feelings. Claire had always had a green thumb and a nose for flowers. When she was younger and lived with her uncle Lamb, she could be found digging up some exotic plant or root and discovering all of its uses. 

The bell above the door signaled a new customer and Claire didn’t have a chance to look up as she was wrapping a bouquet of pink roses for Mr. Jamison to take home to his wife. A deep Scottish voice filled the room and Claire instantly smiled. 

“It looks incredible in here, Sassenach!” Jamie said proudly. He held out his arms and Claire jumped into them, letting him squeeze and lift her off the ground. 

“Happy birthday, Jamie,” she whispered and kissed him tenderly. “I’m so glad you made it.” 

“Aye, I am too,” he kissed her again and set her on her feet. 

“Claire, this place is just beautiful,” Ellen said from behind Jamie and took her into her arms. “Jamie told me this place would be grand, but he didna say just how much. The smell alone is heaven!” 

“Why thank you, Ellen,” Claire said, pleased. “I’ve got something to ask you after you’ve had a look around.” 

“Of course, lassie,” Ellen winked and walked further into the shop. Jenny wrapped both arms around Claire, squeezing her almost as tight as Jamie had. 

“I love it, Claire, tis so wonderful,” Jenny beamed. “Jamie was bein’ so impatient this morning tryin’ to get the orders done so we could close early and come here.” 

“You closed early for me?” Claire gasped. “You shouldn’t have!” 

“Tis also my birthday,” Jamie attempted to wink, making Claire laugh as he nudged her side. “Will ye show us around?”

Claire slid her arm through Jamie and Jenny’s and led them around the store. Pointing out the different types of flowers and herbs. Jenny had her eye on the yellow tulips, another of Claire’s favorites. 

“Do you have a favorite, Jamie?” Claire asked as they stepped off to the side. 

He furrowed his brow, placing his hand under his chin. “Hmm, well I dinna ken much about flowers. Only what ye’ve told me. And I think I’m quite patriotic so I’d say anything scottish.” 

“A good choice,” Claire nodded. “You’ve got the Scottish thistle, and of course the heather.” 

“I also like those wee ones, they blue forget-me-nots were they called?” 

When they had gone on their picnic shortly after meeting, they had sat down in a meadow full of forget-me-nots. Of course Jamie would remember that small fact. 

“I love those too,” Claire smiled and took his hand, leading him outside where a patch of forget me nots was growing amongst other wild flowers. She knelt down and picked a few, presenting them to Jamie. “For you.” 

He smelled them before taking them. “Bonny, just as the woman who grew them.” 

As much as Claire was enjoying her shop being open and helping customers, she was also ready for them all to leave so she could spend the evening with Jamie alone. Even now, his hand resting lightly on her arm was sending chills down her spine. His eyes bore into hers, keeping her captive, unable to move. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about the other night,” Claire said softly, sliding one hand around his waist. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that someone was approaching the counter, ready to purchase their goods, but she just needed another moment. “It was lovely, Jamie.” 

“Aye,” Jamie pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ve thought of little else since I last held ye in my arms. I burned a batch of sourdough yesterday actually because I was thinkin’ about yer —“ 

“Excuse me, miss!” 

“Jesus H. Christ,” Claire muttered under her breath and Jamie reluctantly released her as she attended to the waiting customer. 

For the next twenty minutes, Claire was tied to the counter, helping customer after customer. It was opening day, so it likely wouldn’t be this busy all the time, and for that Claire was thankful. There was only so much she could do on her own. 

Remembering what she needed to ask Ellen about, she asked Jenny to mind the register and found Ellen admiring the rose bush outside. 

“I knew you’d love those,” Claire said. 

“Aye, I love roses,” Ellen wrapped her arms around herself. “They were Brian’s favorite too.” 

“Ellen,” Claire said. “I’ve been wondering if you would like to help me out in the shop? As you can see, I could use all the help I can get! And Jamie’s told me so much about your love for gardening, it only made sense to ask.” 

Ellen’s face was unreadable, just like her son’s. But then a single tear fell down her cheek, and Claire reached out her hand to comfort her. 

“Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have asked,” Claire shook her head. “I’m so sorry.” 

“No, lass,” Ellen gripped her hand and wiped at her tears. “Ye did fine. I would love to help ye! Workin’ here would give me such great pleasure, dear.” 

The two women embraced, and Claire knew she had made the right decision. Ellen had welcomed her into their family as one of their own, so it was the least Claire could do to offer her a small job. And besides, Claire would enjoy her company. 

“Usually on my Jamie’s birthday, we celebrate as a family over dinner,” Ellen said as she and Claire walked back inside the shop. “But, I ken Jamie is lookin’ forward to spendin’ this one wi’ ye.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take him away from a tradition!” 

“It’s no worries, dear,” Ellen grinned. “I’ve had him for twenty-four birthdays. Tis yer turn now.” 

The birthday boy was leaning against the counter as the two women approached. He smiled wide as his mother embraced him, and the sight nearly melted Claire’s heart. 

“I think Jenny and I will head on home,” Ellen said. “Happy birthday, my lad,” she kissed Jamie on the cheek. 

“Thanks mam,” Jamie’s cheeks turned pink. 

“We’ll see ye again soon, Claire?” Jenny asked. 

“Yes,” Claire nodded, looking over at Jamie quickly who was holding back a smile. “I think I’ll find myself over for dinner one of these nights.” 

Jamie’s mother and sister left while he stayed behind, making himself busy straightening up behind the counter. 

“You know, you really don’t have to stay until I close,” Claire said to Jamie after she helped another customer. “It’ll be at least another hour.” 

“I dinna mind, Sassenach,” Jamie cupped her cheek. “I like to watch ye work, see ye in yer element.” 

Hooking one arm loosely around his waist, she pulled him close. “I should warn you about tonight. I’m afraid I’m not very good at planning birthdays, so it looks like it’ll just be dinner and then um… something else.” 

His brow twitched at that. There was no need to explain just exactly what that something else was that Claire had in mind. It was written all over Jamie’s face that that’s what he had in mind as well. 

“That sounds perfect, _a nighean_,” he kissed her nose. “I’ll go and make myself busy in the back while ye attend to yer customers.” 

The next hour passed as slow as molasses. Each time Claire looked up at the clock, it had barely moved an inch. Maybe she should have chosen to open up the store the next day so that she could’ve spent the whole day with Jamie. If things worked out like she thought they would, Jamie and Claire would be spending every birthday from here on out with each other. So, what was another hour watching him piddle around in the back?

++++++

“I hope you don’t mind fish, it’s one of the few things I can actually cook,” Claire speared a bite on her fork. “Living near the front taught me quite a few things, but cooking wasn’t one of them.”

“Oh, I love fish!” Jamie said enthusiastically, taking a large bite. “Honestly, I’ll eat anythin’, I’m no’ verra picky.” 

“Good,” Claire laughed. 

“How long were ye in the war? Was it the whole time?” Jamie asked between bites. 

Claire didn’t talk about the war often, and that was mainly because she never had anyone interested enough to ask. She had spent four years in the war, and had never known which day might be her last. Learning to appreciate the small moments was something she would come to learn. 

“It was tough work,” Claire took a sip of wine. “Most of the time I had my hands covered in blood and didn’t know day from night. But now, if you ever needed stitches, I’m your girl.” 

Jamie chuckled, “I may take ye up on that offer, Sassenach. I’ve been known to slice my hand open a time or two with a freshly sharpened knife.” 

“Says the baker,” Claire winked. “Do you ever wish you could have fought in the war?” She asked seriously. 

The scot thought for a moment before answering. “Sometimes I do. Only because I dinna understand what the men who came back went through — what they saw out there. But, sometimes I hear things — horrible, terrible things, and I dinna wish to have fought anymore than I wish to have my hand chopped off.” 

“I often wonder if I would have volunteered had I known just exactly what I was getting myself into,” Claire mused. 

“And would ye? Volunteer again?” 

“Yes,” Claire said right away. “I could do without the occasional nightmare, but knowing that I had a small part in saving someone’s life…” 

“Aye, perhaps when ye put it that way — I think I’d like to have fought for my country, battles scars and all.” He reached across the table, and squeezed her hand firmly. “Who knows, maybe I woulda been hurt and fallen into yer care.” 

“You would’ve been a very stubborn patient, I reckon,” Claire chuckled and took another bite of the fish. 

Jamie snorted. “My mam always did say I was a stubborn wee lad. And my Da would say the same thing. When I got into trouble, he used to take a belt to my backside — which was more often than I’d like to admit. But, I never made a sound through the hits,” Jamie smirked. “Didna want to give him the satisfaction.” 

“Stubborn indeed,” Claire grinned. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Jamie said. “When’s yer birthday, Sassenach?”

“October 20th, 1918,” Claire replied, taking another sip of wine and watching Jamie’s reaction. 

“Ahh,” he grinned mischievously. “So yer an older woman. Wiser, of course, and ye dinna look a day over twenty.” 

“I was wondering when I should tell you,” Claire laughed and crossed her arms over her chest, still holding the glass. “It’s only a measly two years and a few months.” 

“Just means yer more experienced,” Jamie said. “And I appreciate ye for no’ lookin’ down on me for my young nature.” 

“Your very mature for your age,” Claire smiled. “I find most men in their twenties are these days… must be the effects of the war, it can really age a person. And as far as experience goes…” Claire clicked her tongue before standing up to take both of their empty plates to the kitchen. 

“Are ye sayin’ I was yer first?” Jamie cocked a quizzical brow. “Cause I dinna believe that for a second, Sassenach.” 

“So, you think I’m a floozy?” Claire turned her head to look back at him, and then laughed. “No, you weren’t my first, but you were — my second.” 

“Christ,” Jamie stood up and crossed the room in three steps. “But yer —“ 

“Twenty-seven?” Claire sighed. “I know. I lost my virginity during the war, and all the other nurses around me were going at it like bunnies, but I couldn’t do that. I didn’t want to do that — well,” Claire smirked, “I wanted to. But, I was preoccupied with everything going on around me, I suppose I simply forgot about that side of myself.” 

Jamie grabbed both of her hands, bringing them up to his mouth to kiss gently. “For yer second time, ye did verra well, Sassenach. Verra… _verra _well. And I’m no’ one to be judgin’, ye see I’ve lain wi’ only two lasses.” 

“Only two?” Claire looked him up and down. He was certainly handsome, and well built. She was surprised that he hadn’t slept with the whole town, but she also knew that wasn’t who he was. 

“Aye,” he laughed. “And ye ken somethin’, _a nighean_?” 

“Hmmm?” 

“D'ye ken that the only time I am without pain is in your bed, Sassenach? When I take ye, when I lie in your arms-my wounds are healed, then, my scars forgotten,” he said softly.

“I do now,” Claire brought her arms up to his face and kissed him. “When you held me that night, I didn’t have a nightmare. I didn’t remember the loss or pain. It was only you… only you, Jamie.” 

“Oh, Claire,” Jamie pressed their lips together again, this time sliding his hands down her body to lift her legs around his waist. He carried her over to the bed, wasting no time in laying her down and reaching for the hem of her dress. 

They stripped each other of their clothes, hands reaching and bodies molding together. Claire hooked one leg around his hips, bringing him closer. She felt wild, staring into his ocean blue eyes. It was as if he had always contained a piece of her heart, and he was giving it back to her, completing the whole in her chest she had lived with for so many years. 

“Sassenach?” Jamie nearly growled next to her ear as her hands slid over his back. “Can ye bear it if I’m rough wi’ ye?”

“God, yes!” Claire moaned, and arched her back off of the bed, in turn pressing her breasts against him. Jamie’s mouth was at her neck, his tongue sliding along her jaw. She felt his hand between her legs, grazing her wetness, making her squirm. Then, without warning, he took his cock in hand and pushed forward. 

“Jesus,” she mumbled, shutting her eyes. 

Jamie held still, his breathing rapid. As he leaned up, he simply stared down at Claire, knowing that if he were to die now, it would have been a wonderful and complete life. 

“Please, _please Jamie!_” Claire begged him. 

He reared back, placing both his arms on either side of her body and began a steady thrust. Each time he pushed forward, he hit something deep within her, making Claire cry out. It wasn’t pain, it was pure ecstasy. 

Claire hooked one arm around his neck and brought him down to her, kissing him quickly and parting his lips with her tongue. She may have had little experience, but she was also a fast learner. Jamie’s thrusts were becoming more and more erratic, and she knew he was close, as was she. 

“Faster, Jamie,” she mumbled against his lips. Her hands drifted down over his back, settling on his arse, squeezing it firmly. His body rolled on top of hers, pushing her into the bed with the force of his movements. 

A moment later, he cried out, spilling inside of her, and seeing how Jamie fell apart, made Claire’s stomach tighten and she came hard and fast. Like a corpse, Jamie lay on top of her, his full weight nearly crushing her. 

“Jamie!” Claire managed to squeak. 

Rolling onto his side, he stayed rooted inside of her, cradling her in his arms. “Ye ken, I dinna think I’ve ever had such a good birthday present.” 

“I sure hope not,” Claire snorted, burying her head against his chest. Her fingers moved along his chest, feeling the light sheen of sweat. “That would be a little odd if everyone gave you what I did.” 

“Aye,” he laughed with her. 

Claire wondered if she would ever tire of feeling this way — of loving the sensation of being held in Jamie’s arms. She placed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Thank you for coming to the shop today. It meant a lot that you were there.” 

“I’ll always support ye, Sassenach,” he looked down at her, pressing one large hand to the back of her head. “That reminds me… what was it ye decided to name yer wee shop?”

“It’s rather cheesy I suppose,” Claire said, looking at him. “But I’ve decided to call it _‘Flourish’_.” 

“Flourish,” Jamie whispered. “Flourish,” he said it again and placed a kiss to her lips. “Tis perfect, _mo chridhe_. Just perfect.” 


	7. Merry and Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas time, and Jamie and Claire make some memories they'll never forget!

**_December 18th, 1946_**

“_How_ many are we making?” Claire asked for the second time that day, hoping that the number might’ve changed. 

“Five hundred,” Jamie repeated from earlier. 

Pressing down hard onto the rolling pin, Claire worked out her frustrations on the cookie dough. “I cannot believe that you’ll sell five hundred Christmas cookies in the next week. This is a small village, for Christ’s sake!” 

“They’re but wee, Sassenach,” Jamie placed his hands on her shoulders from behind and kissed her cheek. “We need that many because people buy twenty or so at a time. They make great puddings for Christmas dinner. Or so I’m told.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Claire smirked and returned to rolling out the sugary dough. As much as she was complaining about the amount of cookies they needed to make, she was enjoying herself immensely. Jamie had brought his radio into the bakery, which was now blasting out Christmas songs all day long. The smell of Christmas was in the air, and Claire had snuck quite a few too many treats already. 

“Speaking of Christmas dinner,” Jamie said as he put down a fresh ball of dough in front of Claire to her to roll out. “Mam wants to know if ye’ll spend it wi’ us.” 

In all honesty, Claire hadn’t really thought about her plans for Christmas, but now that this option was available, she couldn’t imagine a better way to spend the holidays. “Of course I will,” she smiled brightly. “As long as I can help. Now, we all know I’m not the best cook, but I’ll wash dishes if that’s all I can do!” 

“Ye can try,” Jamie laughed. “Mam will probably no’ let ye, but ye can try, Sassenach. Perhaps ye can even spend the night or even a few nights — separate rooms, of course,” he added at Claire’s expression. “Then when everyone’s gone to sleep, I’ll sneak into yers.” 

“And then when someone comes knocking on either of our doors, and we’re found in bed together, that’ll be just great!” Claire’s eyes widened. “But yes,” she said. “I’d love to stay for a few nights!” 

Jamie walked behind Claire and wrapped his flour covered hands around her waist, leaning his head down on top of hers. “I’m sure my mam already kens what we’re up to, and besides, we’re adults who love each other. I already ken I’m goin’ to spend the rest of my life wi’ ye, Sassenach.” 

“Oh,” Claire said softly, staring down at the dough. “Well, I love you. You know that, and… and I can’t imagine not having you in my life.” 

“It feels like we’ve known each other for years,” Jamie said, spinning her around to face him. “No’ just months. I can barely even remember what twas like wi’out ye in my arms, Sassenach.” 

“I can’t either,” Claire reached up, smoothing her fingers over his cheek. He had stubble over his chin, just as Claire liked.

Jamie reached behind her, collecting a small ball of dough and began to form it into a shape. Watching, Claire saw that he was forming a circular shape, and then he poked his finger through the middle to create a hole. 

“Claire Beauchamp,” Jamie said gently, reaching for her left hand. A small gasp left her mouth as she realized what was happening. “I’ve loved ye from the moment I laid eyes on ye. When ye stepped out of yer wee shop that day, askin’ me if I was all right… I thought ‘Christ man, look at the pair of legs on that woman.” Claire laughed, hitting him lightly on the chest. “And then I thought, ‘She’s yer wife, whether she kens it or no’, she’s the one ye’ll marry.” 

He took her hand and slid the ring made out of cookie dough onto her left ring finger. “It would bring me great honor if ye would marry me, Sassenach and become my wife.” 

“Why, that looks good enough to eat,” Claire grinned as she looked at her hand. Then, she looked into her favorite pair of eyes and said, “Nothing would make me happier than to marry you, Jamie Fraser.” 

Elated, Jamie kissed her, lifting her off of the ground. Claire’s heart was soaring, and she knew that this would always be one of the happiest moments of her life. Every decision had led her here to Jamie. Every step brought her closer to him, and now she would never be parted from him. 

“I had planned to ask ye on Christmas,” Jamie said, setting her back on her feet. “But, I couldna wait. So, as nice as that ring made of dough is, I do have a real ring for ye back at the house I’d like to give ye.” 

“I suppose this one won’t last,” Claire chuckled. “But it will taste really nice when I eat it later.” 

“Eating raw cookie dough,” Jamie smirked. “Ye ken ye shouldna do that, Sassenach. It’ll make ye sick.” 

“Watch me,” she whispered and held up her hand, closing her teeth around the dough ring. Jamie threw his head back and laughed before grabbing her hand and taking her whole finger into his mouth. With his teeth, he pulled off the dough and removed her finger. 

“You ate my ring,” Claire said a little breathless. 

“Ye started it,” he narrowed his eyes. 

Before he knew what hit him, a dust of flour rained down over Jamie. Claire squealed as she escaped his grip, and hurled another handful of flour at him. Flour began to rain down on both of them as they tossed it to and fro, creating a cloud of powder — it was practically snowing inside the bakery. 

++++++

On Christmas Eve, Claire packed a small bag to take over to Jamie’s. For the first time, she realized that after she married Jamie, she wouldn’t be living above her shop. While it was a nice little place, what she really wanted was to make a home with Jamie. 

“Are ye ready, Sassenach?” Jamie called to her from below. 

“Coming!” 

They would spend the holidays at Lallybroch, and for the first time, Claire would have a real Christmas. Her past Christmases with Lamb hadn’t always been conventional, having spent them in hot countries with a makeshift tree with the native plants. She’d always dreamed of having a true White Christmas. 

During the war, Christmas had passed by almost like any other day, with only a few moments to pause and reflect. 

“Can you grab that bouquet of flowers? They’re for your mother,” Claire pointed to the counter where a large vase of red roses sat. 

“She always loves when you bring flowers,” Jamie kissed her cheek as she hit the last step. 

The walk to Lallybroch was cold, but the immediate warmth that hit them as they walked in was all worth it. The large fire was lit, and Ellen was sitting nearby, knitting a blue scarf. 

“Hello, Mam,” Jamie said in greeting, shutting the door behind them. 

“Hello my darling lad,” Ellen smiled as she set aside her knitting. 

Rolling his eyes, Jamie laughed and hugged his mother. “These are for ye, from yer favorite florist,” Jamie handed his mother the bouquet of roses. 

“Mmmm,” she smelled them. “Lovely, Claire, just lovely.” 

“Is Jenny around?” Jamie asked, sliding his arm around Claire’s waist. “We’ve got some news.” 

“She’s just in the kitchen, come, we’ll all go,” Ellen smiled and took Claire’s hand, leading them through the house. Jenny was standing near the stove, a large wooden spoon in one hand and the delicious smell of warm soup filled the air. 

“Yer brother’s here,” Ellen announced, making Jenny turn. “And he brought us a gift!” 

“Am I the gift?” Claire laughed, pointing to herself. 

“Aye,” Ellen winked. “The best thing he ever gave us too!” 

“Hello, Claire,” Jenny unchained herself from the stove and greeted them both. “Dinner tonight willna be anythin’ special. Tomorrow is the big meal and I canna be slavin’ away tonight too.” 

“It smells delicious!” Claire commented. “And if I can help you in any way, please let me know.” 

The four of them all sat around the long wooden table, and Jamie took Claire’s hand. “Before we celebrate the holidays, Claire and I have somethin’ we wanted to tell ye. We should’ve told ye the moment it happened, but I wanted to wait until now, when things had settled at the bakery and the shop.” 

“Spit it out!” Ellen said, holding her hand over her heart. 

“A few days ago, I asked for Claire’s hand in marriage,” Jamie beamed. 

“And I said yes!” 

“Oh praise Mary and Joseph!” Ellen cheered and jumped from her seat to come and hug them both. “I’m so verra happy!” 

“Ye’ll be my sister!” Jenny hugged Claire. “And twas about time the two of ye moved forward. I was wonderin’ how long it would take my numptie of a brother to ask ye.” 

“I woulda asked her the day we met, but I thought I best give her time to get to know me,” Jamie grinned, squeezing Claire’s hand. 

“Let’s see the ring!” Ellen practically squealed. 

“Ah, well, I proposed with a ring made of cookie dough,” Jamie blushed. “But I do have the real ring. I just plan on givin’ that to Claire a wee bit later,” he attempted to wink at Claire, making her chuckle. 

“James Fraser,” Jenny clicked her tongue. “Only ye would propose with an edible ring.” 

“It was very sweet actually,” Claire smiled at Jamie. “And then we got into a massive flour fight that I’m afraid you can still see the remnants of.” 

“Ah, so that’s why there was a dusting of white over everything,” Jenny smirked. “Well, I’m verra happy for ye both. We’ll be gainin’ a wonderful new family member soon.” 

“And then maybe soon a wee one,” Ellen said quickly, causing Jamie to blush furiously. 

“And on that note, I’m goin’ to take Claire on a walk,” he stood from the table, taking Claire’s hand. “We’ll see ye for dinner.” 

After grabbing scarves and mittens from a basket near the door, Jamie and Claire set off outside. It wasn’t snowing, but it would soon — Claire could sense it in the air. 

“Rather chilly for a walk, don’t you think?” Claire said, hooking her arm through Jamie’s as she huddled close. 

“Aye, but I wanted to get out of there, and I have somethin’ to show ye,” he said and kissed the tip of her red nose. 

What must’ve been ten minutes later, Jamie stopped in his tracks. 

“Ye see that building?” he pointed to a small cottage on the other side of a small pond. 

“Yes! It’s rather cute,” Claire covered her eyes to shield from the sun. 

“I’m glad ye think so,” Jamie said, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a golden key. “Shall we take a look?”

“Jamie!” Claire gasped. “Why do you have a key?”

Her heart was racing as she looked back and forth between the cottage and Jamie. 

“It was the first house that my mam and da lived in while the main house was being finished. It’s still in the family,” he grabbed her hand and led her to the front door. “And now it belongs to me… to us.” 

As Jamie unlocked the door, he let Claire walk in first. It was decorated simply, with only a few bits of furniture. A stone fireplace was on one side of the room, and the kitchen tucked behind the living area. 

“Tis two bedrooms, and while it’s small, it’s a good size for a newly married couple,” Jamie wrapped his arms around Claire’s waist from behind. “I’ve been ready to burst wi’ this for weeks now!” 

“We’re really going to live here?” Claire asked, hardly able to believe it. “A home all to ourselves. Oh Jamie.” 

“So ye really like it, Sassenach?” Jamie stroked her head. “We can find another place, but since this place already existed —” 

She turned in his arms, placing her hands on his chest. “I love it! It’s more perfect than I ever could have imagined, and I can already picture our lives here.” 

“I’ll do the baking and ye do the gardening?” He quirked a brow. 

“Sounds like a wonderful plan,” she kissed him, then shivered as a chill ran down her back. 

“Go sit on the sofa, I’ll start a fire,” he rubbed the sides of her arms. “We dinna have to head back just yet. We can enjoy bein’ in our home.” 

“Our home,” Claire sighed, and took a seat on the sofa. They would need a few more pieces of furniture and more decoration to make it feel like a home, but that would all come together. Even though they just got engaged, Claire wasn’t planning on having a long engagement. Especially not after realizing this would be where her and Jamie would start their lives together. 

Jamie had obviously been here before today, as the fire was already set with logs, and after a few tries, he got it going, the warmth already filling the small space. He joined her on the couch, pulling her legs into his lap. 

“Now,” he grinned, reaching into his pocket for the second time that afternoon. A small box was in his hand as he pulled it out. “I would like to do things properly.” Jamie opened the box to reveal a modest sized oval diamond on a silver band. 

“I ken ye’ve already said yes, but tis no’ official without this,” Jamie said, taking the ring out of the box and holding it up to her left hand. “Claire Beauchamp, I love ye wi’ all my heart, wi’ all my soul, and here in this house, we’ll make so many memories together.” 

He slid the ring onto her finger, closing his fingers around hers. “It’s gorgeous, Jamie.” 

Claire pulled his face down to hers, running her fingers through his curls. He adjusted his body on top of hers, covering her. There was no greater joy than having the one you love whispering sweet nothings in gaelic after he just gave you a diamond ring. Claire felt like if she died then and there, she would die happy. But there was a lot of living she needed to get done. 

“Merry Christmas, Jamie,” she kissed him. 

“And a happy hogmanay,” he wiggled his nose against hers. 

There by the fire, two souls became one. Two people who had known loss and pain had found each other, and there was now nothing that could separate them.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	8. Tastes So Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claire and Jamie spend time together in their cottage after their wedding!

** _February 27th, 1947 _ **

The fire crackled quietly, and the warm glow illuminated the cottage. Finally, peace. 

Claire sighed happily as she watched Jamie sit down at the other end of the sofa, immediately taking her feet onto his lap. His strong fingers curved along the insole of her foot, making her want to purr like a kitten. 

She must have made some sort of sound, because Jamie chuckled, deep in his chest. Opening her eyes, Claire found him grinning at her, one side of his mouth drawn up in that mischievous way of his. 

“Today was…” Claire paused, trying to find the right word to describe their wedding day. 

“Perfect?” Jamie offered. 

“Hmmm, yes,” Claire nodded. “Perfect, lovely, wonderful, and rather exhausting!” 

Jamie laughed, and moved onto her other foot. She had opted for a small heel, but two inches was apparently all it took to make her feet throb — they’d been the first thing she’d kicked off when they walked in the door of their cottage. 

“Aye, I ken what ye mean, _a nighean_,” Jamie smirked. “I thought we wouldna make it out of there alive!” 

They had invited practically the whole village, as it was small and they wanted to celebrate with those who saw their love blossom. Because of the generosity of the village, they barely had to pay for anything. All the food was cooked by Jamie’s mother and her friends. The cake made by Jenny, the flowers obviously provided by Claire herself and neighbors pitched in decorating the backyard of Lallybroch. 

It was simple, but it was perfectly them. 

It had only been two months since their engagement, but neither of them wanted to wait. Their life was beckoning, and they bloody well wanted to get on with it. 

“I suppose you didn’t grab any cake on the way out?” Claire asked. 

“Oh!” Jamie stopped rubbing her feet. “Actually, I did. Jenny made a wee basket of food for us to bring back. All the pastries and cake ye could need, Sassenach. Shall I fetch it?”

“Yes please,” she licked her lips in anticipation. Jamie lifted her feet off of his lap and rose to go into the kitchen. Claire had managed to remove her shoes, but hadn’t gone so far to take off her dress yet — after all, you only get one day to wear it. 

Jamie came back with the fully loaded basket, and a bottle of champagne, a rare treat. He had removed his jacket, and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. He looked dashing in his Fraser kilt, and Claire couldn’t wait to get under it later. 

“Any cheese?” She asked, moving to sit up. 

“I think so, my wee mouse,” Jamie laughed, and dug around the basket until he found a square of cheese wrapped in cloth. He cut it into pieces and handed one to Claire who leaned forward and ate it straight from his fingers. 

“Mmm,” she moaned, her eyes shutting at the taste of the sharp cheddar. “I didn’t realized I was starving!” 

“We barely had time to eat wi’ the wedding,” Jamie said with a mouthful of bread. “Talkin’ to everyone, thankin’ them and such. At least we got a bit of the cake, and more now.” 

“Jenny did a wonderful job with that,” Claire smiled. “I know it was hard for you not to intervene,” she cupped her fingers under his chin, making him smile. “But, she was very happy to bake it for us.” 

“Aye, I ken yer right.” 

“That’s a sentence you can get used to saying,” Claire winked, and nudged him with her foot. 

“My wife is always right,” Jamie grinned widely. “Except when she’s no’.” 

Claire reached into the basket and picked up a piece of the cake, holding it in her hand, level with Jamie’s face. 

“Ah, Sassenach,” Jamie eyed the sugary cake in her hand dubiously, his body shifting away. “What do ye think yer gonna do wi’ that?” 

“I might eat it,” she looked at it. “Or I might just—“ 

Claire pushed her hand against Jamie’s mouth, the cake smearing across his lips. The light purple frosting made a streak across his nose and Claire sat back, laughing to herself. 

“Sassenach,” Jamie stuck his tongue out, licking the frosting. “Whatever possessed ye to do that?”

“Because I wanted to,” she said, still laughing. Before she knew what was happening, Jamie grabbed a piece of cake and shoved it over her face. Gasping, and leaving her mouth vulnerable, Jamie slid two cake covered fingers inside. 

Claire clamped down on his fingers and sucked the cake remains off. Jamie’s smile faded into a look of lust as his wife licked the frosting off, swirling her tongue around his long digits. 

“Claire Fraser,” he said with a husky voice. “Yer goin’ to get what ye deserve!” 

Jamie pounced on top of her, nearly knocking the basket to the ground. A shriek left Claire’s lips as they tumbled to the ground, his body pinning her to the hardwood floor, covered only by a warm rug. Closer to the fire now, the glow shined on Jamie’s face, highlighting the look of desire. 

“You seem to have a bit of cake on your lips, darling,” Claire tried to laugh, but found it hard with the weight of her husband on top of her. But when she did laugh, her body pressed against his, and she felt an obvious hardness between his thighs. 

“I wonder how it got there?” Jamie said softly, moving down to kiss her. It was the sweetest kiss that Claire ever had. Her tongue parted his lips, as her hands slid up to cup the sides of his face. 

“I don’t have any idea,” she breathed heavily. “Better clean it off.” 

“Hmph,” Jamie grunted, and licked her lips with the tip of his tongue, then moved to where the rest of the frosting covered her cheeks. He kissed her jaw and began to move her mouth to her neck, lighting sucking. 

Claire’s hands moved to his back, sliding into the waist of his kilt. The heat of him — it drove her wild and she needed him in that moment more than she needed air. At the touch of her hands on his arse, he moaned and pressed down against her hips. 

“God, Jamie,” Claire sighed, bringing his face back up to her lips. “Take this damn dress off of me!” 

“I’ll be more than happy to oblige ye, Sassenach,” he smirked and rose off her body. She sat up and got to her knees. Moving behind her, Jamie began to undo each button, his large fingers working as quickly as they could. “So many damn buttons,” he muttered. 

“It was just as much work getting into it,” Claire laughed, holding her hair out of the way for him. “But it was so beautiful. I suppose I won’t be wearing it again.” 

“Why no’?” Jamie kissed the back of her neck quickly. 

“Well, I can’t exactly do any gardening in a wedding dress, and wearing it to the shops would look quite funny,” Claire laughed, feeling chills run down her body from his kiss. “Maybe I’ll pull it out a few times a year just to remember what it felt like to wear it.” 

“I think ye can wear it whenever and wherever ye like, Sassenach,” Jamie smiled, pleased with himself that he finished the last button. “But, I do think it would look a wee bit odd wearing it to the shops, so maybe just at home, ye ken?”

“Agreed,” Claire laughed. With the dress unbuttoned, she stood to her feet and turned to face Jamie. As she looked down at him, Claire pushed the sleeves from her arms and let the dress flutter to the ground around her into a pool of lace and silk. 

His blue eyes drifted from her face, to her bare chest — no room for a bra with the dress. “Christ,” Jamie said softly as he drank her in. “Oh Claire,” he reached out a hand to her. “Ye truly are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. If I havena told ye that enough.” 

“I don’t mind hearing it again,” she blushed and sank to her knees. Her hands instantly went to the top button of his shirt, and she silently undressed him. Once the kilt was the only thing that remained on his body, Claire’s fingers began to tremble. It wasn’t like this was their first time together — God, Claire couldn’t even begin to count the number of times they had slept together, but it was more than her fingers and toes combined. 

Jamie’s hands covered hers, squeezing firmly. “Ye’ve nothin’ to be scared of, _a nighean_.” 

“I’m not scared,” Claire said and meant it. “I suppose it’s just all the emotions of the day catching up to me. We’re married, Jamie, really married!” 

A smile brightened his face, one that lit her heart on fire. He kissed her gently, one hand cupping her cheek. “We are married, Claire Fraser. And I shall never tire of callin’ ye that. My wife.” 

“Mmmm,” Claire melted against his lips. “Say it again.” 

“Claire…” he kissed her cheek. “Fraser,” then her nose. 

His hands slid down her body, feeling the silkiness of her panties which he began to push down her round arse, one of the many body parts he admired. “My wife,” he whispered into her ear as she lifted one knee at a time. 

“My husband,” Claire said breathlessly, her head lolling to one side as he kissed her neck. His steady hand held her head up, intertwined in her curly hair. Gently, he pushed her down until she lay flat on the ground. It may not have been very comfortable, but neither of them was in the mood to move for the sake of comfort. 

Jamie reached at his hips to removed the kilt, but Claire shook her head, grabbing onto the material tightly. “Leave it on,” she grinned wickedly. “Just for now… please?”

He chuckled and let go of the tartan, letting it fall back over her body. “It does look verra nice against yer smooth skin, Sassenach.” His fingers began at her neck and moved between the valley of her breasts, briefly circling her left nipple before moving down her stomach. “Like pearl.” 

Claire couldn’t help but squirm as his finger tickled her, but she didn’t dare stop him. His fingers moved south, lightly over her ribs and around her belly button. Her breath hitched as he reached her mound of Venus, pausing to press down firmly. 

“Oh God,” she moaned, already feeling a building sensation inside of her body. 

“Later,” he said softly, his fingers playing with a dark patch of pubic hair. “I would like to kiss every part of yer body, taste every inch of yer skin.” 

“Later?” Claire sat up on her elbows to watch him. 

A deep vibration ran through his body and Claire felt it in her pussy. “I mean that now I dinna think I can restrain myself from takin’ ye hard and quick.” 

“Ah,” she sank back to the floor, watching through thick lashes as he reached under his kilt and she got a full view of his erection. Jamie stroked himself, his eyes never leaving hers. She could see a drop of pre-cum on the tip and her mouth watered to taste him — but, later… as he promised. 

His other hand continued to move down, skimming over her wet lips, collecting the moisture there and he palmed his cock with his now slick hand — slick from her. Claire felt like she would combust at any moment, and when his fingers slipped inside of her, she had to squeeze her thighs to control the tremors that overtook her. 

“Can ye take me, Sassenach?” Jamie nearly growled. “Will ye have me?”

Reaching for him, she kissed him hard and a moment later, his fingers were replaced by his cock, filling her completely. Once he was rooted inside, he stilled, his mouth still crushing hers. The fire and the evening’s activity had made them both start to sweat, which actually made it quite easy for Claire to slide along his body. She wanted him, no, needed him, and she thrust her hips against his, desperate for him to move. 

_Move he did_. Jamie pulled out of her until just the tip was inside and then thrust forward, making her body move against the rug. No doubt she would have carpet burn come sunrise, but at this moment, she didn’t care. 

Her hands found purchase on his hips, clinging to the kilt as he began to pound into her. He was relentless and the power he usually contained was unleashed. Drops of sweat flicked down across her chest. The veins of his arms were begging to be kissed, licked and touched. The power behind his movements made her see stars. 

“Oh God, Jamie!” 

“Sassenach,” he cried out. 

One hand moved to squeeze his arse, pushing him further into her. Angling her legs, she opened herself up for him, wanting all of him. Jamie bent down, pressing his chest to hers and kissed her neck. His thrusts were becoming more erratic and she knew that he was close. 

But, a moment later he slowed, his hips becoming controlled and he lowered his mouth over her nipple, sucking until it stood upright. Claire’s right hand moved into his now sweaty curls, tugging as he sucked harder. A tingling sensation that started at her breasts spread throughout her entire body. Jamie made sure the other nipple received the same attention before moving to kiss her lips. 

He then pushed back onto his arms, staring down at her, his hips still moving slowly. Their eyes locked, and for that moment in time, it was only the two of them that existed. It was as if time stood still, allowing them to savor the moment — the feeling of his cock inside her body, her hands on his back, the warmth of the fire like a cocoon. 

“Please, Jamie,” Claire said, squeezing his arm. “I need you!” 

“Aye,” he kissed her sloppily. “I need ye, Sassenach.” 

His hips snapped once, twice, three times and it had Claire crying out in whatever language came to her first. Be it English, French or the bit of Gaelic Jamie had taught her. Jamie spilled inside of her, muttering a string of Gaelic words against her neck as he stilled like a corpse. 

They were now covered in sweat, bodies slick with perspiration and the evidence of their lovemaking. 

“Perhaps making love by the fire wasna a wise choice,” Jamie laughed against her chest, carefully pulling out between her thighs. He cradled her body against his, wrapping his arms around her back. 

“Nor was the rug,” Claire hissed as his hand ran over her skin. “I’m afraid I’ve got rug burn.” 

“Ifrinn,” Jamie muttered and pulled Claire against his chest so he could take a look at her back. “I’ll go get some of that wee salve ye used for my scratches. Is it by the bed still?”

“Yes, and bring a towel too,” she said as he got up from the ground. She heard something like material hit the ground and when she looked down the hall towards the bedroom, his kilt was on the floor. “A naked Scot running free,” she laughed to herself. 

A minute later, Jamie returned, stark naked with the salve and towel. He helped her up and she laid back down on the sofa. “Now that ye say it, Sassenach, my knees are well chaffed.” 

“Then put some of this on them too,” she replied, turning her head to face him. As she did, she came eye to eye with his cock, which twitched at her breath. “Hallo there.” 

Jamie glanced down at her curiously. “Are ye talkin’ to my cock, _a nighean_?”

“It’s right in front of my face!” 

Jamie squirmed as her hot breath touched him again. She tried not to laugh as his flesh began to harden, either from the air hitting it or the proximity of her mouth. 

“Weel, turn yer head the other direction, Claire or I’ll never be able to get this stuff on ye,” he covered his privates with his hand until she turned to face the sofa. 

“You’re the one who took off the kilt,” she reminded him. 

“Aye, because it was soaked through and weighing me down,” he gave her arse a gentle pat, making her jump. “Now, lie still. Tis my turn to nurse ye.” 

In the months she had known Jamie, she had tended to his wounds many times. And thankfully, she had made all the proper salves and potions for every occasion. Even in one instance, a lotion she had made for her hands had worked wonders as a sort of lubrication. Thinking about that instance as well as her husband’s length made her stomach twist delightfully. There was no promise of sleep tonight. 

The salve melted at Jamie’s touch and soothed her back the moment he applied it. The rug burns were light and only covered the upper half, but still painful enough. It looked like the next few rounds, she’d be on top. 

Once her back was coated, Jamie applied a bit to his knees as well. “Now, lay there until it dries.” 

“Yes, sir!” Claire chuckled, feeling like she was back in the army. 

With another swift pat to her bottom, Jamie placed the salve on a nearby table. He sat down on the floor, his hand coming to rest on the back of her thigh. 

“Is it safe to look the other direction? I’m getting a crick in my neck,” Claire sighed. 

“Aye,” Jamie smirked, his hands rubbing slow circles on her skin. 

Claire turned her head the other way and smiled at him. “Much better, although I think I’d like you back on your knees.” 

“Och, give a lad a moment to breathe,” he squeezed her thigh. “We canna all have yer stamina.” 

“Hmph,” Claire huffed. 

She didn’t want to wear him out too soon into the night, so she told herself to wait at least until the salve dried. Surely, that would be enough time, right?

“Are ye sure ye dinna want to go anywhere else for our honeymoon?” Jamie asked. They had decided to stay at their cottage, as Claire told him they wouldn’t be doing anything other than lying in bed for three days. At that, his eyebrows had shot up to his hairline before he kissed her. 

“Yes,” she nodded. “We live in a beautiful area, and besides,” Claire’s eyes drifted down between his legs. “I don’t think you’ll be able to get out of bed once I’ve had my way with you.” 

“Yer a vixen,” Jamie leaned over and bit down gentle on the back of her calf. “But if yer sure ye dinna want to go somewhere else.” 

“No, I’m sure,” she smiled, reassuring him. 

They were silent for the next few minutes, and Claire thought she might be about to fall asleep — with the warmth of the fire and Jamie’s fingers grazing over her skin. But then he spoke softly. 

“Do ye think we made a bairn?” 

“A what?” Claire moved to a sitting position on the sofa, swinging her legs to the floor. 

“A baby,” he said. “Do ye think we made a bairn just then?”

She was shocked, but didn’t feel uncomfortable by the question. It was true, they had forgotten protection more than a few times. And Claire wanted children with Jamie, as many as she could bear. 

“Perhaps,” she said, and a smile spread over her lips as she truly thought about it. Jamie moved between her legs, his hand reaching to splay over her stomach. 

“I’d like to think we did,” he said softly. “I’d like a wee one. A small version of you and I.” 

“I would too,” Claire agreed. “A bun in the oven.” 

At that, Jamie laughed heartily. “Oh Christ, yer right!” 

“I know of a way to make sure we get a bun in this oven,” Claire smirked, pulling him up and he sat beside her. She climbed onto his lap, his cock resting between her legs. 

“Och, Sassenach,” he kissed her. “Ye really will wear me out.” 

She brought her hand down between their bodies, stroking him slowly, watching as his eyelids fluttered shut. “But I’ll happily die in yer arms a thousand times.” 

“Then kiss me, my husband,” Claire adjusted her legs, taking him in. 

“I love ye, my petal,” he said before claiming her lips. 

“As I love you, my bun,” she chuckled at the name and then began to rock her hips. 

Together, they were sweet as honey. Their bodies in sync, forming one as they sank into each other. 

It would be roughly nine months later that they would welcome a beautiful baby boy, named Brian after Jamie’s own father. 

The baker and the florist fell in love, and with their love they made a life that was simply sweet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for reading this sweet story! I've enjoyed writing it so much, and maybe one day these two will make a comeback!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!


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